Meanwhile
by Sarnai4
Summary: There is much time that had gone by without us knowing what the Berserker chief was doing. Seeing as he is not always one to share the tales of his experiences in detail, come to see with him.
1. Hunting

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. All copyrights go to Dreamworks and Cartoon Network/Netflix**

Dagur paced in his throne room. "Are you sure this is the best idea, Sir?" Vorg asked him. Dagur shot the viking an irate look, "Of course, I'm sure! I have to **know** dragons and that means I need to hunt them." he explained. The older viking, silently, shook his head, "Whatever you say, Sir." "No kidding there. Set a course for Dragon Island, Vorg."

The ships docked at the island and Dagur disembarked with more weapons than he should have been able to carry. "Do you know when you'll be finished?" Vorg inquired. "Not sure. If I kill all the dragons, I guess I'll have to go to another island. So, sometime before that."

Dagur made a spot to rest with some different woods. "Now, who's going to be my first hunt?" he asked no one in particular. Searching the island, he found a Gronckle. He charged and hit it with a club. The second time he rose his weapon to hit it, the dragon caught it in its fangs. The Gronckle threw both weapon and viking into a tree. Invigorated, Dagur climbed the tree and tackled the dragon. Putting it in the Berserker chold hold, he stabbed its neck. The reptile moaned, pitifully, and Dagur finished the deed with his sword.

"Well, that was fun. I might need some antidote later, though." he realized. He looked around and found some different herbs. Combining them in a large pot, he looked at them, "Guess there's only one way to find out if this works." he laughed, "Who's next? Oh dragon." he called out, in a sing-song voice, "Come out, come out wherever you are." he called and continued his hunt. Next, he found a Deadly Nadder. Crouching low, he threw a spear into the dragon's side. The Nadder roared in pain and shot a spine into his right thigh. Dagur yelled out and removed the spine just in time to roll out of the way of a magnesium blast.

"Ooh. Upset are we?" he asked. Dagur grabbed an ax and blocked several more blasts. "_And it's out."_ he thought, knowing when the dragon had exceeded its shot limit. He threw his ax at the dragon's neck and it sunk in. The Deadly Nadder fell to the ground with a thud. "Not so tough now, huh?" he inquired, with his speech slurring due to the spine's poison. He slumped against a tree trunk and staggered to his base. He lapped up the, premade, liquid and was relieved that he had remembered the recipe, correctly.

"What's next? Right. A Monstrous Nightmare. There's got to be one around here somewhere." The young chief crawled and rolled throughout the forest. Rustling caught his attention and he stopped. Peeking through some bushes, he saw a lake and a Monstrous Nightmare drinking, peacefully.

Dagur readied his bow and aimed it at the creature. The dragon had smelled him and moved, last second, to avoid the arrow. The Berserker growled in frustration and aimed again. The dragon flew into the sky and shot fire at the viking. Dagur, narrowly, avoided being hit, climbing a tree to gain some height.

Hidden by the tree's foliage, he shot down the reptile. The dragon crashed down to the forest floor with a roar. Using gravity for momentum, Dagur leapt from the tree and brought down his sword on the dragon's neck. "This'll make a great trophy." he said, excitedly, "Watch out, dragons. There's a **new** predator now." he laughed and proceeded to remove the Nightmare's head.


	2. Lightning Dragons

Dagur went to the Berserker Island library and scanned the shelves. Content in what he found, he took one out and sat down. "_'We harnessed its power and vanquished our enemies. Even the best dragon stood no chance against us. Eventually, our beloved beasts became too out of control and we were forced to freeze them in ice.' Perfect. That's just what I needed."_ the chief thought.

He left the building and returned home. It was so empty that for a moment he felt somber. He decided preoccupy his time was with his plans for revenge. "_Hiccup won't know what hit him. And when he **does** find out, it'll be too late."_ he laughed at the thought and pulled out the maps of the archipelago.

He had gotten no sleep that night, having spent its entirety scheming. As soon as dawn broke, he went to Vorg's hut. The viking came to answer his door after hearing loud knocking. He was about to say some unfriendly things to whoever was out there, until he saw that it was his chief. "Chief? What can I do for you?" "We're going on a search for a Skrill effective immediately." Dagur told him. Vorg contained a sigh and gathered his things.

The Berserker ships were loaded and they set off on their voyage. "What made you think of the Skrills, Sir?" Vorg asked. "The Skrill is our best bet to take down Hiccup and his **Night Fury**." The youth spat, "Who knows how many dragons Berk has in its arsenal? They could wipe us out just for the heck of it! **But, **if I have that Skrill, we can blast them out the sky." he made an explosion sound and cackled, maniacally.

Dagur was standing on the deck of his ship. "_We have to find it. It still exists **somewhere.**_" he thought. Hiccup had lied to him. Betrayed him. He needed to make him pay for that fatal mistake. "Sir, are we going to go back to the island soon?" Vorg asked. Dagur raised an eyebrow, "Why would we do that? Do you not want to find my Skrill, Vorg?" he asked, threateningly. Vorg stammered, "O-of course I do. It's just been a while and we don't know where it is." Dagur growled, "And that's why we're still **looking**." he said, through gritted teeth. Dagur calmed down, verbally, "Sometimes, Vorg, it seems like you prefer swimming to walking." The Berserker soldier paled, "No, I quite like being **on** the boat, Dagur." "Then, you should learn how to get onboard with my plans." The chief told him.

They had been looking for weeks and found nothing. The Berserker chief was steadfast in finding that dragon. He went to his vikings, "We have to split up. Vorg, you take a ship East, Herald, you go West, Abnar, South, and we'll go North. I should always be over you." he chuckled. They separated and spent more time searching. Dagur threw a knife at a target with Hiccup's face drawn on it and yelled in frustration. "I'm **going **to find that Skrill!"

A Berserker entered the room, "Sir?" he began, timidly. Dagur turned and prepared to throw a knife at the disturbance. He stopped mid throw and growled, "Barge in why don't you? Nothing could go wrong." he said, sarcastically. "Um, I thank you for not killing me." The viking stated. Dagur rolled his eyes, "Let's focus on **why** you're here." "Captain Vorg. He found a Skrill."


	3. Preparation

The Berserker chief paced in his house. "_What now? My Skrill's gone thanks to Hiccup. I have to find some way to capture him." _he thought. Dagur went to their armory and looked at the weapons. "_We have nets and catapults. What if we combine the two?"_ He grabbed a sketchbook and started jotting some weapon ideas down. After a little bit, he was satisfied by the result. Going to the Berserker Herald, he handed the man the plans. "We need some of these. That way, we can shoot the dragons out the sky and trap them immediately." he told. Herald nodded, "Aye, Chief. I'll have the vikings get on that now." Still, Dagur wanted more. He frowned, "_How do I get Hiccup over here?"_ his face lit up, "_Johann! That blabbermouth will tell his stories to anyone he can find."_ the youth laughed.

A couple weeks had gone by and the new catapult net shooter was almost done. Dagur found some of Johann's trading routes and pointed to a spot on the map. "Go here and grab some more weapons-can never have too many of those. While you're there, mention our new weapon. Nosy'll hear you and tell our little Berkian friend. Got that?" The Berserkers confirmed that they understood. "Good. Now be on your way." He said, shooing them away with his hand.

Dagur's plan had almost worked, but Hiccup and the others riders had evaded them yet again. "All right. Put your thinking helmets on because I'm open to ideas. How are we going to take down Hiccup and his Night Fury?" he asked his Berserkers. They stayed silent, "Maybe I should speak louder," he began, growing annoyed, "Someone, think of a plan to finish the dragon riders or you'll be begging they take you prisoner! Can't expect me to do **everything**." Savage stepped forward, "I have an idea, Sir." Dagur sighed, "Great. It's not even one of my Berserkers that answers. Well, Savage what's your idea."

The Outcast started, "I've had a run in with a dragon species called Smothering Smokebreaths." "Yeah, I've heard of those." Dagur noted, "What about them?" "Well, they seem to be scanvengers and take metal. Stripped us of it all, back when I was with Alvin. I still remember where it was, so if we plant some on Trader Johann." Dagur smiled, derangedly, "He'll take it to Berk and they'll lose everything that's worth anything!" The youth laughed. "I like it, Savage. Let's try.".

The Smokebreaths had been turned against them and Dagur was left floating on a piece of driftwood. He scowled at the tiny speck that was Berk. Savage struggled to stay afloat, next to him. He gulped air whenever his head resurfaced. Dagur groaned and hauled him back onto the driftwood. "Thank you, Sir." the Outcast said, gratefully as the chief grumbled. He was keeping an eye on his Berserkers to make sure they were all right with their drifting. It took a long time, but they reached Berserker island again.

Dagur knew that he needed something that messed, directly, with dragons. That would be perfect. Searching every book they had on the reptiles, he found something odd under dragons. "_Dragon root."_ he pondered, "_Never heard of that. Maybe that'll mess up their little beastly minds."_ He sent Savage and some Berserkers to Dragon IsIand on an assignment to collect the plant and test it out with the dragons. All that was left to do, was wait.


	4. Serving Time

After their failed attempt to hold Hiccup and Stoick hostage, the Berserkers and Savage were apprehended by the Outcasts and Berkians. Alvin took it on, himself, to administer the punishments. The vikings were forced onto their knees as Alvin told them their sentences.

"Berserkers, you will spend ten years in these cells, since you didn't have too much say in these matters. Savage, for your betrayal, you will spend the rest of your life in your cell. Or until I decide I should just kill you for your crimes." Alvin smirked, menacingly. The former Outcast paled and trembled. "And you for, Dagur," The Outcast leader began, "You'll rot here forever with special disciplining whenever I feel like it."

The prisoners were brought to their cells and Alvin took Dagur to his. The boy's hands had been chained behind his back and Alvin started, "Apologize for what you did, Dagur." The chief laughed, "For betraying you? As if you weren't planning on killing my Berserkers and I, Treachy." Alvin hit him and forced Dagur onto his knees again. "Maybe so, but you're in no place to claim justification, Boy. I'll make you sorry for what you did."

The Outcast lifted him off the ground by his throat and held him like that for a while. The Berserker started seeing dots and struggled to maintain his conciousness. Alvin threw a punch that sent Dagur into the adjacent wall, further knocking the wind out of him. The boy gasped for air and a series of hits followed. The Outcast kicked him in his back and slammed him into the ground. Raising him, Alvin pushed him against a wall and brought his sword to his face.

Fear, briefly, flashed on Dagur's visage and the blade slashed over his right eye. He let out a low grunt, trying not to give Alvin any satisfaction in knowing that it hurt. Enraged, the Outcast slashed again. This cut was large and went from near his right temple to past his mouth. Dagur could not contain it anymore and yelled out in pain, causing Alvin to smile, "Feeling sorry yet?" Dagur breathed, heavily, and started laughing, "Yes actually. I'm sorry that you didn't die when I shot that water full of lightning." He was kneed in the stomach and Alvin's sword went to his neck, before stopping. "I won't end you." Alvin stated, "It would be a mercy compared to what I've got planned."

Giving a swift kick between the legs, Alvin went and locked up the cell. The Berserker laid on the ground in agony with blood dripping down his face, "_When I get out of here, you are going to pay, Hiccup."_ he thought, furiously. The next day came and Dagur still had his hands chained together. "Can't you take these off now? The door's locked." he complained.

An Outcast prisoner, across from his cell, came over to the bars, "What? Can't handle a bit of metal on your wrists for too long?" he taunted. Dagur grew irritated, "I don't much like being restrained." he said, through gritted teeth. "Better get used to that. A sad state of affairs when a Berserker chief is the prisoner of an Outcast." the prisoner mentioned, chuckling, "Hey, if any bread comes your way. Toss it to me-oh I guess you wouldn't be able to pick it up even for **yourself**." he sucked his teeth. Rage filled Dagur, "I'll toss an ax into your cell!"

Alvin was walking by and hit Dagur's cell bars with his sword, invoking a loud ringing. "Quiet, Boy! I don't take kindly to troublesome prisoners." he said to the Berserker. Dagur fumed, "Then wipe that guy's head off his shoulders and we'll be fine." Alvin looked at the other Outcast, who gave the most innocent expression he could muster. "As I leader, myself, you just don't act chiefly, Dagur." Alvin unlocked the cell and entered. Instinctively, Dagur took a step back. The Outcast eyed him up and down, "You have to learn to share."

He paused and grinned, "I know a poor, balding, viking who'd like to look nice for his granddaughter's wedding. You wouldn't mind sharing some hair, eh?" The Berserker sneered at him and dodged a grab. Alvin reached again and yanked him by his braid. "This should look nice on the old man." In a messy stroke, he cut the braid off Dagur's head and ripped some off the side. "Well, I better go deliver this gift. Thanks for the donation!" Alvin left, laughing. The Outcast prisoner chuckled at the Berserker and Dagur's temper flared at his annoying voice.

Bread was given to the prisoners that night, but Dagur's cell was missed. "_Fine, I don't want their disease-riddled bread, anyway. If I have any luck, it'll poison that Outcast and he'll die tonight_." Dagur laughed at the concept. A week passed and Alvin would come to his cell, daily, and no food would be given by the nights. "Al, I thought you wanted me around for a while." he said. Alvin smirked, "I want you to pay for what you did, **not**, necessarily, be around."

Dagur leaned against the wall. He was losing more blood, and subsequently iron, than what would be healthy. At the **very** least, he needed some water. The only part of his cell that he did not hate was the darkness. It allowed him to do crunches and other exercises without being seen. He knew that he would have to get a lot stronger and more fit, if he ever wanted to escape that prison.

"_**Might** need an outside source." _Dagur thought, as another week passed. There was one Outcast that he noticed would turn his head whenever Alvin would come to torture him. "What's your name?" the Berserker asked. The Outcast jumped, unaccustomed to being paid attention. "Uh-Kirz." he stammered. Dagur brightened and smiled, "Hey. How long've you been a guard here?" "About a year, I think." Kirz answered, relaxing a bit.

"Been in any battles?" the prisoner inquired. Kirz's face dropped, "They said that I'd be a liability in a fight, so Alvin just has me in here, in case of emergencies." Dagur walked over to the bars, "Oh, don't let 'em get to you. It's an important job to look after prisoners. I bet that you'd be able to hold any of them off too." Kirz grinned, hopefully, "You think so?" "Definitely! Alvin is just paranoid, I mean, why else would I **still** need to have these chains? I haven't eaten in weeks, not like I'm going amywhere."

Kirz thought for a long moment, "You know what? You're right. Alvin's too paranoid. You won't be able to go anywhere with or without those chains. It's just unnecessary to keep you like this." the Outcast unlocked the door and entered. He undid the chains that bound the young viking. "I greatly appreciate this." Dagur said, sincerely.

Alvin went to look at the prisoners and stopped at Dagur's cell. "What are his chains doing unattached?" he asked. "He doesn't seem like much of a threat." Kirz stated. "Exactly what I thought before he betrayed me! He's a tricky one." Alvin grabbed some chained and entered Dagur's cell, attaching them to a wall.

Alvin reached for Dagur, who tried to move, but was unable to quickly enough-due to a lack of calories. "You've hoodwinked Kirz, but I'll get that sneakiness out of you." the viking said, "Consider this the **special treatment**." He grabbed Dagur's wrists and attached them to the chains, chaining him to the wall.

Alvin brought out a whip and snapped it down Dagur's back. The crack rang in the young viking's ears. He, mentally, swore as it was brought down on him and panted in between lashes. The only other thing that Dagur could do, was laugh. He cackled at the crackling and Alvin gave him a disturbed look. "Have to maintain your **deranged** image?" the Outcast inquired. "Not everyone can give up on their monikers, Treachy."

Time passed and Kirz kept talking to Dagur. Feeling badly about his starvation, Kirz brought him some bread and water. "This isn't the normal prisoner bread either. That basket's got eels all through it." he made a disgusted face. The former chief laughed and, happily, accepted the food. Kirz sneaked him the bread and water, when Alvin was not present.

Dagur was getting more in shape as he stayed there. He would do pull ups with the chains, gaining strength, balance, and muscle control. He was naturally lean and was gaining muscle definition, quickly. He practiced speed and agility-whenever Alvin would be off the island and Kirz unchained him-so that he could maneuver around attacks. Alvin was taking notice, "Guards! Why's the prisoner not knocking on Hela's door?" he thundered. The Outcast guards trembled, "We can't watch him every moment, Sir. We have to make sure the other prisoners aren't up to anything." "Aren't up to anything." he mocked.

Alvin barged into the cell and pulled out his sword. "What're you up to, Dagur?" The Berserker gave him a crazy grin, evoking a growl out of the Outcast. "I'll gut you." He put his weapon at Dagur's stomach, "No need for that, Alvy. I can't go anywhere. I'm locked in, remember?" Dagur asked. Alvin snarled, "I **might** trust you more had you not been proven a good liar." He went to slash his abdomen and Dagur grunted.

"Bring me those whips! Someone needs another flogging." Alvin ordered. "Haven't done anything, Al." Dagur defended, "Why are you mad? I just stay in this cell and do a few, mental, exercises. Don't want to let my mind fry in here." The Outcast calmed a bit, "I don't like my prisoners in shape, Dagur. If I catch you training, you'll have the 'special treatment' for the rest of your miserable life." "Fair enough." Dagur stated, calmly, trying not to smile like a madman and thought, "_As if you'd ever catch me. Oh, Al, I'll be gone before you know it."_

Kirz marched up and down the cell rows, yelling at any inmate that was doing something wrong. It was a week that Alvin was gone and Dagur was loving every second. Kirz came over with some fresh bread and water.

"Kirz, you've been a great friend." Dagur leaned in to whisper, "You can do a whole lot more and with a lot more respect, if you let me out of here." he promised. Kirz smiled, "What position would I have?" "Any that you want! Captain, General, heck you could be a cook on Berserker Island if you wanted." Dagur laughed. He stopped, abruptly, seeing how it made Kirz uncomfortable.

The guard paused, "All right. How do we do this?" Dagur grinned, "Tomorrow night, Johann's coming right?" Kirz nodded, "We can take his boat. If you put the key in a box, that'll fit in the bread basket. Toss that in here and I'll take care of the rest." It was settled and Dagur sat on the ground, excitedly, awaiting the next night's events.


	5. Supplies

Dagur and his vikings had escaped their Outcast prison, gone against Hiccup, and were sailing on the seas. "We'll need to head East." Dagur stated, looking at a map. They needed supplies and he found some islands in another route. "An island's up ahead, Chief!" a Berserker called. They docked and disembarked on the land.

The Berserker chief looked around, "There might be a supply station over there." He pointed to their left. Heading over, they found weapons, food, ships, and clothing for sale. The vikings brightened and began to look at the items. The recidents of the island gave them suspicious looks. "It'll be a big purchase." Dagur told a merchant. The salesviking eyed him up and down, "Where do ya all hail from?" "Doesn't matter. Gold's gold right?" Dagur questioned.

The merchant said nothing and more vikings came over to stare at the newcomers. Another viking stepped forward and went to the merchant's side, "Are you Berserkers? You wear their clothings and have the tribal markings." she said. Savage puffed up, "We sure are." Dagur glared at him, _"Don't always have to say so much, Savage."_ he mentally scolded. A brunette viking went by the pair, "You're Dagur the Deranged!" she said. The merchant stepped in front of her and the other viking, "Heather, go back to the house. We'll handle this convict."

"What's there to handle?" Dagur asked, exasperated. "I, actually, just want some supplies." The islanders did not believe that and brought out their own weapons. "Heather," the other viking hissed, "go back." The brunette, hesitantly, went back home. The chief frowned at the people. He did not care about them living, but he wanted his Berserkers to have more food in them before they started attacking any islands. "If you **really** want a fight, we'll give it to you." Dagur stated. He glanced around him, seeing where his vikings were. Grabbing some weapons, he tossed each some and kept an ax for himself. "Ooh, this is nice." he cooed over the weapon.

He laughed and charged at the merchant, digging his ax into the older viking's throat. The merchant let out a yell and fell onto the ground, dead. The other viking let out a battle cry and leapt at the Berserker. Dagur dodged her sword and slashed her torso with enough force to almost wipe it clean off her legs. He heard a cry coming from the huts and saw the young brunette crying. _"They must have been her parents. Well, not like we didn't come in peace. Guess they **wanted** to die."_ he mused, killing another viking.

The chief took great joy in seeing his Berserkers and Savage taking down every viking of the island. Savage ran his sword through a large viking and smiled, proudly, at Dagur. Almost looking for approval. Dagur gave him a quick nod before cutting a leg off of a warrior. Soon, every warrior of that island was gone. The only remainders were small children and elderly vikings. "What about **them**?" Savage inquired. Dagur thought, "The old ones won't be an issue. The younger ones might get all vindictive, though and try to kill us later when we'reold. Better stay on the safe side." He began to walk to the huts.

Hearing this, Heather ran to get all the children and they hid in a secret location. Dagur entered every hut and found no one, "Hm, guess that brunette got them." he said, ruefully, he lit back up, "We've still got all the equiptment, so they'll die in a matter of weeks." He laughed and went to inspect the supplies. Dagur found some clothes and an armor outfit that fit him. "_Finally! A good change of clothes."_ he thought, happily. After getting cleaned up in one of the huts, he put on the new garments.

Walking over to the water, he admired his reflection. Flexing a bit, he frowned when he saw his scar. There were a lot more that the clothes concealed, but the one on his face was still as clear as day. Savage snapped him out of his thoughts, "Sir, the men are ready to set off." "All right. Hiccup and his riders need a hangout spot. We find that and there'll never be any real escape from us again." he cackles and goes to their ships.


	6. I Spy

The Berserker ships were sailing around. "There, Astrid's out on patrol." Dagur alerted the others, looking through his spyglass. "Follow her." he ordered. The ships went after the dragon rider-unbeknownst to her- and lost her in the clouds. The Berserker chief grunted in frustration. "We know they're somewhere around here, but we need more sightings."

They had spotted Fishlegs coming in, a few days later, and began searching in that general vicinity. "_This is as annoying as trying to find that Skrill."_ Dagur fumed. "Perhaps a rest, Sir? To regroup?" Savage suggested. "We have everything we need. The only reason there'd be to stop is if you wanted to give up. That's not what anyone wants, is it?" the Berserker asked, passive aggressively. The former Outcast shook his head, fervently, "No, Sir, not at all!" Dagur's expression changed to a smile, "Good. Then you agree that we should keep looking."

They sailed on for a couple more weeks and Dagur was growing, increasingly, irate. "_The next rider I see, we're shooting down. They'll give us the location or won't live to go back there, themselves." _he thought. The Berserker stood at the starboard, staring at the seas. He stabbed a knife into the ship's wood, in anger, and heard Savage's call. They had caught a dragon rider.

The treasure search with Gustav had not worked as Dagur hoped it would have. He laughed at Hiccup and Toothless diving after Gustav. He ran out of the crumbling cave towards his ships, "There's nothing here we want anymore." he told them. Savage looked at him, confused, "But, what about the treasure?" Dagur spun to face him, "I said there's nothing here anymore." he said, seriously. The older viking went to the ship, following after the chief.

"What do we do now?" Savage inquired. "We haven't found that base, have we? Keep searching." was the answer. Sailing and sailing, that was beginning to be their custom. So much so that some vikings grew homesick, "I miss my family." one Berserker complained to another. "Our families might be killed, though, if we don't have that King of Dragons on **our **side." the second viking stated.

Savage kept frowning at the sky, the subsequent noon. "_Is that a dragon up there? Wonder what it's doing._" he pondered. The other vikings were working on routes and avoiding going against the currents while he stared. "_No, that's it. That thing's an issue-I just know it! I've got to tell Dagur."_

The Berserker was in his room, deep in thought. "_My sister's all right-well, she's lonely and hates me, but I can change that. The issue is that Heather's around here and I **still** have no idea where! If I really focus on finding Hiccup's base, maybe then I can use their dragons to search for her." _Excitedly, he got up and went up to the deck. He looked harder than ever before.

Dagur grinned, "Do you know how to make people get sloppy, Savage?" he asked. "Can't say that I do, Sir." "Let me enlighten you, then. If we were to attack Berk-Hiccup's 'precious' home-he and his riders will be so sad and concerned that they won't be at their peak. And when they're not at peak performance, **that's **when they'll slip up and not pay attention to being tracked!" He laughed.

"Herald!" Dagur called over to another ship, "Bring your ship to Berk's shore and attack them. You know, flaming catapults-the works. Afterwards, come right back and help us locate their spot." The other Berserker gave a nod and set his course for the island. Dagur smiled, crazily, "See you soon, Hiccup."


	7. Team Up

Dagur, Savage, and the Berserkers were stocking up on some more boulders for their catapults and arrows. They had lost a large amount with their attack on Dragon's Edge and their ships needed repairs. "You came at a good time." the merchant stated, "I just got these reloaded from my last visitor. An **enormous** sell." the viking sighed, happily. "Who was it?" the Berserker inquired. "A Queen Mala. Only see her in passing. Tall lady with short blonde hair and travels with a ponytailed guard. No one knows where her actual kingdom is. Quite the mystery that one." "Mysteries're best when they're solved. And that one'll be too." a new voice added.

The people turned to see a group of vikings. A bald headed one, who was the evident leader, had spoken. He marched over to the merchant, shoving a Berserker aside. Dagur began to draw his ax and stopped, seeing what the viking was holding. "Have you seen this? It belongs to us and we're looking for it." the viking inquired. He held up a drawing of the Dragon Eye for the merchant to see. The seller shook his head, "Sorry, but I've never seen that thing before. Whatever it is." The newcomer grunted and started to leave.

"Hold up there, pushy. What **is** that thing?" Dagur asked. The viking stopped, "Have you seen it?" "I asked my question first." The Berserker stated, indignantly. The older viking grunted, "It finds islands and dragons. We sell the dragons. I'll tell you more if you know something about it." Dagur shrugged, "Fair enough. I've seen your Dragon Eye. Had it for a bit too. Someone else has it now and I can help you get it, **if** I get some of the profits." The viking seemed to think about the proposition, "All right. We'll work together on this, but we use my hunters. They know dragons like I do. Your men would be liabilities against the beasts."

Dagur looked at his Berserkers, "_The guy's right. We really don't know too much about different dragons-thanks to those three years Hiccup had us go to jail!" _he fumed, "_I can't risk their lives on such a large scale like that. Not going **entirely** alone either. What's a good in between?"_ He turned back to the hunter, "This one comes with me and it's a deal." he said, gesturing to Savage. The hunter nodded and they shook hands, "Ryker Grimborn of the Dragon Hunters." "Dagur the Deranged."

Dagur faced his Berserkers, "Return to the island. As soon as Hiccup is gone and we have more gold than we can count, we'll be back. In the meantime, Herald's in charge." The aforementioned viking smiled at the promotion and saluted. Next, the newly allied team boarded the hunter ships. There were a lot of compartments, but Dagur saw that they used for storing holding pins. He remembered seeing them on The Reaper, "Nice cages." he complimented. "Is there any dragon that can get through it?" Ryker patted the bar, "Only one and we own it."

They went into the navigation quarters and Dagur eyed the maps, "You'd be way off course if you continued this way. The vikings who have the Dragon Eye are right here. It'll take a bit to get there from here, but we'll make it eventually." Ryker went back to the top of the ship, "We head Northeast. We'll find that Dragon Eye and rip it from the corpses that stole it."

Dagur and Savage took a quick tour of the inventory and stopped at some green-tipped arrows. "What are these covered in?" the Berserker inquired. Ryker went over, "Dragon root. Have you ever used it?" Dagur examined the arrow, closely, "The root yes, but not like this." he frowned, slightly, at the weapon, _"Kinda cheating if you just take one out from the sky with these. A spear would be cooler. Then you could just run up and stab them."_ he thought giggled to himself, warranting a disturbed look from Ryker.

The three moved to another location in the ship and Ryker pointed to some rooms, "Those are the night quarters." The two nodded in response. "Let's get to work." Dagur stated, with a devilish grin, "First thing you need to know about the vikings, is that they ride on dragons." The hunter's eyes widened in surprise, "They do what?" "You heard me. They're led by the scrawny guy on the Night Fury." Seemingly defying physics, Ryker's eyes widened more, "A Night Fury? They still exist?" Dagur moved his hand in an oscillating motion, "Barely. There's just that one. That **I** saw first. Remember that when we capture them. Less impressively, there's a Deadly Nadder, a Hideous Zippleback, Monstrous Nightmare, and Gronckle." he counted off with his fingers, "Their plans are pretty basic, so since I know them so well, we'll be able to take them down, easily." Dagur boasted.

A blanket of darkness came over the sky as many hunters retired to their rooms; however, Dagur neither wanted to sleep nor could. Instead, he drew up little ideas of how he would kill each of the riders. The one who had the most was, of course, Hiccup. The Berserker laughed at each new plot forming in his demented mind. A sound of someone struggling grabbed his attention and he went to the deck.

The hunters had caught a rider. There were a lot of vikings to keep the animal at bay and they blocked the majority of Dagur's view. A silverish-gray tail swung, wildly and the viking rushed to the action. A Razorwhip was being muzzled and the rider's arms were being forced back as an ax was being prepared to calm down the situation. "Stop!" Dagur called out. He took the ax from the hunter and eyed the rider, "What are you doing flying around here?" Heather tried to look confident, "Looking for you. I know that you go after Hiccup and figured I'd find you if I came in this area."

Dagur rolled his eyes, "Trying to kill me again? Getting to be a bad habit of yours." Heather shook her head, "No, I'm not this time." she sighed, "You're the only family I've got-whether I like it or not. So I want to try to actually get along." Dagur had a twinkle of hope in his eyes, "Really? You'd be willing to take down your friends and everything? Witness their tragic and horrifying defeats without getting sentimental?" "I never knew them for that long and besides, family is more important."

An unreadable expression went over Dagur's face, _"Would she really side with me? The chances of her getting out of here if she doesn't join is pretty slim, though. Maybe we could give her a shot and see if we should trust her. Worst comes to worst, I'll just toss her out on some shore and keep the spiny lizard. That would be better than dying."_ he thought.

The viking gave the young lady a smile, "All right, Heather. I'm willing to give you a chance. Let's see if you can convince my new associate." They went to the night quarters and a hunter knocked. A stir could be heard and Ryker, groggily, answered. "What? Who's this?" he pointed to Heather. "This is Heather. My long-lost, baby sis-who doesn't know proper time etiquette in visiting people. She claims that she wants to join us." Dagur stated, blatantly. Ryker looked her up and down, sneering, "Why should I want you on my side?" Heather straightened her back and looked him in the eye, "Because I have a Razorwhip. A dragon on your side will be helpful against the riders."

Ryker thought it over, "All right, lass. You can join us for now, but I'll be keepin' an eye on you." he said, threateningly. Dagur could not help an irritated feeling that he had in his stomach. "_Why did that annoy me? I don't even know Heather like that. I shouldn't care if she gets threatened. After we start__ to hang out more, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."_ He pondered. Dagur showed Heather to another room, "You can sleep in there, unless you're a Lycanwing and **that**'**s** why you like flying around at night." he gave a suspicious look, then laughed at her concerned expression. "Gotta lighten up. That's the first thing to do when being around me." he told her, "Night." he called behind him, already heading back to sketch more kills.

The next day, Dagur went to a hunter that was eating his breakfast. "So," Dagur began, "is Rykie the main big bad that you guys follow?" The hunter almost choked on his food, trying to suppress a cackle. He swallowed, "Not at all. He's the field officer. The **main** one is his little brother Viggo." Dagur grinned, "He gets bossed around by his baby bro? Is the guy a giant or something?" "Far from. Viggo's not a very large viking. Taller than you, but not nearly as muscular. He's a ruthless viking, smart and suave. You won't even know he's arranged your funeral until your boat's being lit up with arrows."

Dagur nodded, impressed, "Sounds like an okay guy." He got up and went to the ship's mast. "You're going too far East. We need to go more left." he told the captain. Dagur walked and stood by the side of the ship, looking at the waves. "_Viggo might be the killer amongst his peers, but he'll be in a for a mighty big surprise when I take that Dragon Eye and run him and his brother through."_ He concluded his musings with a deranged laugh.


	8. Persistence

The hunters had lost the riders, but were undeterred. Dagur stood at the side of the hunter ship as Ryker came up to him, "Are we close?" he asked. The Berserker nodded, "We'll be there in one day time. They won't know what hit them." he chuckled and it developed into an all out laugh. The hunter scowled at the sound, "We aren't goin' after them all, Dagur. Only the scrawny one's needed." Dagur sighed, "Yeah, yeah. I know that you guys don't like to take out loose ends. We should have killed Hiccup's team back when we had them captive, but **no**."

The Berserker stroked his, scraggly, beard, "If you really want Hiccup **only**, we'll have to do it when he's alone. Send in a couple hunters to see when he's out by himself and," he snatched at the air, pretending it was the Berkian, "we'll be all set to go wherever we want!" Heather came up to the group. "You should go get more supplies. There are some merchants south from here." Ryker told her. She nodded and mounted Windshear. Dagur watched as she flew away, an odd feeling inside of him.

Dagur kept an eye on the horizon with his spyglass, "Up there." he alerted, "We've arrived." he grinned, evilly and giggled. Ryker turned to the hunters and pointed at two, "You'll go find the viking. Remember to bring him back alive so that he can be of use." They saluted and disembarked off the ship onto the land.

The mission to capture Hiccup had failed and Dagur got up from the ship's deck, rubbing his head. He felt heat and, quickly, patted out the fire that was on his hair. Looking up, he saw Ryker dangling from a rope and he suppressed a laugh. "Get me down!" Ryker shouted. The hunters were all disoriented and unable to function, properly, so Dagur sighed and cut the tightened rope with one of his knives. Ryker fell to the ground with a thud and got up, his hands balled. "Hey, I wasn't going to catch you. It was either the ground or the air." Dagur told him. Ryker grunted, calming down and squinted at the sky, "How convenient. Your sister's back. Couldn't have imagined a time when she might have been helpful." he said, sarcastically.

Heather and Windshear descended upon the land, "What happened?" she asked. Ryker looked like he was ready to explode and Dagur cut in, "We lost. We'll have to pay more attention next time and **really** make sure someone's alone when we hope they are." He gave a, significant, glance at the hunters that had been assigned to capture Hiccup and they looked away in shame. "What'd you bring back?" he inquired to Heather, smiling, brightly. She opened her bag, "Not much. The place was overriden with wild dragons."

"Wild dragons." Dagur echoed, quietly. "I heard that when **Heather **said it, Dagur." Ryker stated, annoyed. The Berserker took a deep breath, keeping himself from snapping at the hunter, "Wasn't trying to get you to hear it again, Rykie. An idea's forming, though." Dagur paced back and forth, "Those riders are the goody two-shoeiest vikings I've ever seen. They'll help anyone and everyone that needs it. Even if it inconveniences them." Ryker frowned, "So?" "**So**, if we were to, perhaps, send some wild dragons in the path of Trader Johann, they'd probably fly out to help the blabbermouth."

A light flickered in Ryker's eyes, "Very well. Heather, show us where you went and we'll chase them right into the trader's route." he spun and faced the Berserker, "You better know these riders like you claim to, Dagur. Neither my brother nor I take too kindly to wasting our time." The hunter walked away before Dagur could respond. "_Not like I like wasting time either, Ryker._" he thought, bitterly, "_The threat-happy, brain-dead-" _"How do we find Johann, Dagur?" Heather asked, interrupting his thoughts. Dagur pulled out a map and walked over to the viking, "He takes a certain route and, occassionally, passes right by here." he said, pointing to an island. "My vikings found him there back in the day and heard that he makes monthly returns. I think that it's about the same time as before."

Heather began to lead them back to the reptile-infested, island. "That's it there." she called out. She got on her Razorwhip's back and they flew to the dragons. Windshear blasted near the creatures, invoking some to flee. "Sorry." she whispered. "Get back down here. We don't have all day." Ryker yelled up to her. "Lay off, Ryker. She **just **got them to leave. She's coming. Sheesh." Dagur stated. _"You don't have to talk to us like we're your henchvikings."_ he brooded, mentally.

They followed the dragons and herded them to Johann's ship. A loud yelp was heard as the animals bombarded the trader. "Now, we just have to wait." Dagur promised. They set their course back for the Edge to stay until they saw the riders leave. "Are you sure that the riders will leave?" Heather inquired. Dagur nodded, "Almost positive. They won't want their ally to get eaten or fried, so I can't imagine that they'd sit, idly." He looked at the seas, anxiously awaiting taking that Dragon Eye.

In the evening, Dagur knocked on Heather's door. "Yep?" she asked. "We need to talk." he told her, seriously. Trying not to turn ashen, she nodded and widened the door. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." Dagur answered. She raised a brow, "Then-" "Why'd I come here?" he offered. "Kind of." the viking admitted. "Well, I've been thinking and since you're family **and** here right now, I should let you in on my plan. I'm not working with or for Ryker. As soon as I find that Dragon Eye, I'm killing him, his hunters, and his mystery brother. All in the most gruesome ways I can think of-and I'm quite, morbidly, creative. Just thought you should know, so you won't be taken off guard or anything." "Thanks for letting me know." she said. Dagur shifted, uncomfortably, on his feet, "Okay, eh-that was all I had to say, I guess. See ya later, Sis." he waved goodbye and left the room. "_There's **gotta** be something more to talk to her about." _he introspected on his way to his quarters.

While the plan had, mainly, worked, the hunters ended up being outnumbered when Hiccup returned to the Edge with an army of dragons. Windshear carried the Berserker siblings and Ryker to safety. "_Not looking forward to what he'll have to say after this." _Dagur thought. "That's the last time I listen to **you**." Ryker told him as Windshear landed. The viking frowned and puffed up, "I was pretty much right. Hiccup and his Night Fury are biggest issues and they were gone. It took too long to complete everything and they just knew the nooks and cranies of that island."

"They knew that island like **you** said you knew **them**." Ryker instigated. "Just like how your hunters, supposedly, know about dragons, but couldn't tell what Zippleback gas smelled like! I can't do **everything**." Dagur shot back. The two stood off, glaring at each other. "Now, this won't help us do anything." Heather said, trying to break the ice and put a hand on her brother's shoulder. Turning to strike the viking that touched him, Dagur remembered that it was his sister and he stopped mid-attack. Sighing, he began, "How about we try to just find some more islands for now? Capture whatever dragons that are there. All these fights with the riders are making us lose inventory and we'll need money." he suggested. Ryker grunted, "Fine." and sulked off to the bottom of the ship.

When they were sailing, the hunters had found and captured a Skrill. They lost the dragon to the riders and were recovering from the damage it had caused. "Looks like we'll need more dragons to make up for this now." Ryker said, grumpily. They went back to the ships and set sail for any island in their path. As night came, Ryker retired to his room. Heather stayed out longer, looking for any incoming riders with her brother.

She yawned, "I think I'm going to head to bed, Dagur." She started to leave and stopped, "How much longer do you think you'll be out here?" He shrugged, "Don't know. Goodnight, though." She continued to her quarters as he decided to draw more kill ideas. This time, to do to Ryker. Hours went by and it was well into the night. Heather awoke and sadness filled her, "_I miss you, mom and dad. Even if you weren't my biological parents. I miss my birth father too. __Don't worry, though. I'll get back at Dagur. He took everything and everyone that I loved away, so I'll do the same to him. If he even loves anyone other than himself." _

She wanted to get some fresh air and went outside. Heather stood at the side of the ship and hung her head as a few tears fell. "Are you okay?" Dagur's voice made her jump. "I'm fine, just...got up for some fresh air." The chief doubted that she was telling the truth, but knew that she did not want to talk about the issue. "_Can't really blame her. She's probably missing her family._" he thought, sheepishly. Without looking at him, so that he could not see her depression, she asked, "So, why are **you **up? Did you never go to sleep?" He rubbed the back of his neck, "I went to bed for a bit."

Out of curiousity, she, quickly wiped her eyes and looked at him. She could barely see him, but as the clouds left the moon uncovered, she saw that he looked off. Pale and flushed at the same time, almost like he had seen a ghost. Heather wondered what had happened, but did not ask. "_I don't care why he's like that. He's evil and doesn't have a conscious, so it's not like something's haunting him or anything."_

Heather pushed off the boat's side with her elbows, "I'm going to try to rest some more." she said. Dagur nodded and went back to the other side of the ship. He heard a creak in the flooring and reached for a knife. The sound was only caused by the ship being an older one. The young man, silently, scolded himself, "_Clear your head, Dagur."_ he laughed. "_Is that even an option? Who knows? Sleep's most likely a non-factor, so I'll try to think of something fun to do when we get the King of Dragons."_ he went to his room and closed the door.


	9. Lost

Dagur walked out of the cave in an almost daze-like state. He went to the opening of the cave and paused, "_Where's Savage? He was supposed to be here."_ Frustrated, he went back to where the main area, with the hunters, was. "_Come on. Show up, Sav. I don't have time to look for you."_ The Berserker sneaked around the base, searching for the former Outcast. "D-Dagur." a hunter called out, groggily. It was one of the hunters that he had knocked out to save Heather. More hunters rushed over to the viking with a clear concussion, "What happened? Weren't you supposed to get the girl ready to die?" one asked the viking. He nodded, lethargically, "Dagur. He's...a traitor...and tricked us. We can't..let him escape. You have to find him. Ooh, the Grimborns are going to have fun with him after all this." the hunter said, growing irate.

"Tell the others that we have a new target, men." a hunter said. Dagur looked at the scene. He was, badly, outnumbered and could not afford an all out battle with every hunter Viggo owned. "_Sorry, Savage."_ he thought, regretfully, "_I hope you make it out all right."_ The Berserker did not know the area as well as the hunters, but he knew how to go unnoticed. He waited for them to go far enough away, so that they could not see the sea. Seeing that the coast was clear, he slinked back to the opening of the caves and ran up to a vacant ship. He hoisted the sails and began to move from the docks.

Hunters were still scrambling around on the land, seeing no vessel sailing away. Dagur thanked Thor that he knew how to work a ship and navigate by himself. He traveled through the night, the sun rising after hours of making a good distance between himself and the hunters. The large gas ball shone over the water and caused it to sparkle. The viking felt spiteful, "_Heather was lying the whole time. Everyone I trust just lies to me. No one ever **has** cared and they never **will**." _He glared at the sun that made it hard to see. "_At least, there are no islands nearby to crash into."_ he thought.

Hours went by and Dagur stopped to grab a quick bite from the lower compartment. "_Was everything she told me a lie?"_ he wondered. He bit into a yak leg like it was his enemy. "_Stupid Hiccup. I bet that he made her think we couldn't be family and that she had to be a double agent."_ He sailed more, "_Where am I even going?!" _he pondered, furious at himself. He stopped steering for a moment to think, but kept an eye out for anything new to pop out of the sea. "_Now, I could go back to the Edge, sneak up in the middle of the night, and kill Hiccup and his crew, myself. That idiot Ryker won't be there to mess it up this time. Then, Heather won't feel obligated to help her friends and we can be a family again!"_ he smiled, evilly and happily. Laughing, he started for a new course.

Weeks passed and he realized how far away from the Edge he was. He did not sleep for any of the time and it was starting to get to him. His corneas burned, pleading to be shielded from the outside world and to recover behind protective lids. "_I can't sleep. I have to get there. Of course, I won't be able to kill anybody, if I'm exhausted." _He groaned, "_Maybe I **should **try to get some rest." _The viking dreaded the concept, but conceded that he would. The seas were calm and night had fallen long ago. Dagur went to a bedroom and laid on top of the bed. He did not know who used to sleep in there, so he would just be on the bare minimum of the object.

He closed his eyes and they were grateful. As he sucuumbed to sleep, the room melted into a cell. An Outcast cell. Dagur could see from his arms and clothing that he was his younger self. He felt a warm liquid on his cheek and raised his hand to it. He saw blood on his fingers from his face and before he could do anything, Alvin slashed his face with a sword. This caused more blood to flow, freely. He cried out and went to raise his arms to protect himself, but found that they were chained to the wall. Alvin laughed, menacingly, and Dagur could see the lost expressions on the faces of his Berserkers. "And to think that ya all were willing to live under him." a familar and judgemental voice rang out. An older, large, red headed viking appeared behind Alvin. Dagur knew what was coming next. Another slash was made on his face, but by the newcomer this time. "Ansson," Dagur spat, "when I get out of here, I'm going to kill you in the most horrifying way you can think of." The older Berserker scoffed and patted his head like he was an animal, "A horrifying way? Try a painful way. Like this."

Ansson raised his ax over his head and brought it down to Dagur. The prisoner moved just in time and let the weapon hit the chains, causing them to break apart like glass. His brow rose in disbelief of what happened and he saw that Alvin and Ansson were not the only ones present. Ryker, Viggo, the Berkians, and the dragon riders appeared out of thin air. They surrounded him, ready to attack. "Want a fight?" he asked them. "Then that's what you've got." With a war cry, he charged at the group with his ax drawn. Just as he was about to plunge his weapon into Ryker's skull, the man turned into smoke. In confusion and trepidation, Dagur turned.

The dragons fired blasts at him and he dodged them. Stoick charged with his sword coming straight for Dagur's jugular, but the viking side-stepped and brought down his weapon. Again, smoke. This repeated for the others, until he came to Ansson. The elder Berserker gave a, threatening, smile and they charged at one another. Dagur saw how he was dodging moves, but for some reason, the hits still made contact. "_How's that happening? I should be avoiding all these. Is he aided by magic?_" he thought.

Dagur sliced at Ansson with his weapon and it went through him. The smoke moved around and found its way to Dagur's throat. It formed Ansson again and the man put him in the Berserker choke hold. "You know that you can never beat me, Dainty." A punch of steel was sent into the young viking's gut. A kick, with Gronckle force, to the side of his head blurred his vision and made stars twinkle. "You're not a chief **or** a Berserker. Just a disgrace!" The last word was said with two voices and the second hurt Dagur more than the attacks.

Ansson, too, turned to smoke and then a fierce wind blew. It, nearly, forced Dagur off of his feet and he clung to some rocks that he found. The wind transformed the fog into a viking. A larger than life version of Oswald the Agreeable was seen. He looked at his son with hatred and disgust in his eyes. "How was I to be despised so much by the gods?" he lamented, "You're so stupid that you don't even know when you're about to die." The former chief raised his sword and lowered it to his son's body.

Dagur fell off of the bed and onto the ground. The ship rocked, wildly and he heard claps of thunder roar. "Thor, don't go after me now." Dagur requested, manning the ship to the best of his abilities. Waves larger than he had ever seen slapped the vessel and knocked him off of the steering wheel. He ran back to the wheel and tried to go into the storm, knowing that was the best option to get out of the disaster. Everytime he came close, a giant wave smashed him fifty yards away. Lightning struck the ship and flames arose from the shot. The sail went up in fire and it spread to more of the ship. Before it reached the viking, another wave pushed the vessel under water.

Dagur held his breath and swam to the surface. More waves and lightning came, attempting to drown him and set the ship aflame, respectively. Each time he felt dryness, Dagur gulped at the air. He clung to the wheel for dear life as wind and water thrashed him to and fro. "_Is this really how it's going to end? Just me out here with no one. Alone, hateful, and hated. I never made it up to Heather for ruining her families, or became the chief the Berserkers deserve."_ Another wave pushed him down and he struggled to resurface. "_I don't want to go out like this. Not when I have so many things to correct."_ A larger wave. "_Please, Odin! Give me another chance and I'll do whatever I can to be a better man. A **good **man. I won't even try to kill or hurt Hiccup and his friends. I'll help them in any way that I can to make amends. Just let me live long enough to do that_!" he pleaded.

Dagur could see nothing in the torrential rain and only felt the impact as he was flung backwards. He slammed into the back of the ship and covered his eyes, trying to see as much as possible. The storm began to let up and he saw an island before him. "_Thank you. I promise that I won't let this go in vain."_ he made the oath.

The ship was in ruins and was sinking by the second, so Dagur grabbed all that he could carry and rushed out to the land. Just as he finished his trips, it sank to the bottom of the sea. Carrying the items with him, the Berserker walked around the island. "_There should be a good place for shelter nearby."_ he hoped. He saw rocks and Fire Fern, particularly, avoiding the latter. The sound of running water caught his attention and he grinned.

"_This could be a good spot. Water's right here and all."_ The young man looked around, "_But it's so out in the open._ _I'll keep looking for a more hideouty location." _He continued on further and saw a cliff. Louder water rushed and he figured that there was a waterfall. "_I haven't seen a waterfall before. This'll be cool."_ he thought, excitedly. He went down and marvelled at the beautiful nature. Squinting, he saw something beyond the water. "_What's that? Is there something behind it?"_

Dagur set down the belongings and, carefully, made his way up to side of the waterfall. There **was **something. Hidden by passing glances, an area was provided. Dagur scanned the location and nodded, content, "_Nice. Dark, but a fire will fix that. A big wall and I can see a lot from up here._" He went back for his things and set them up, neatly. Three barrels, a bucket, some cloths, a bag of food, a few boxes, and a water container were saved from the vessel. "_I'll be needing some fire wood."_ he knew.

Dagur went to the forest and used one of his knives to cut wood. He bundled them up for fire wood and saw Purple Oleanders. The viking grabbed two rocks to use as igniters and balked, hearing a hiss. The man watched in horror as a tree transformed into a dragon. Panic filled his body and threatened to cause him to burst. "_No. I can't still be sleeping. Not another dream. Not another!"_ He ran from what he thought was a demon, sent to go after him by his own sick mind. The Changewing shot acid at him and he yelped after seeing it disintegrate earth and rock before his very eyes.

He threw a blade at the dragon's neck and did not see as it penetrated the thick hide. Dagur made his way to the hideout, not wanting to look behind so as to not slow him down, but curious of his hunter's location. The rustling of bushes and scrapings of claws had long vanished from his vicinity, so he calmed. Rage boiled inside of him, "I wouldn't even be out here if **Viggo,**" he hissed the name like venom, "wasn't going to kill my sister." He paced like the madman he was, gesturing in the air as though he were killing the aforementioned viking.

Suddenly he stopped, "_How I am going to be better if I still act like this?" _he leaned against the cave wall. "_I don't even know how to not have a bad temper or be sane. Wish someone would've taught me."_ Dagur rested his chin in his hand and a twinkle of determination lit up in his eyes. He straightened up, "I've always done things alone before. I can do it again. There have been plenty of books that I've read about how to calm down. They even had a bunch of different vikings with anger issues in them. Of course, **my** mind **does **seem a bit more...off, but I'm sure that won't matter."

He sat down on the cave floor, one leg crossed over the other and took in a deep breath. "Omm." he exhaled, "Find the peace among the chaos. Focus on being honest and good. Focus..and become that." Dagur imagined a stream-much like the one outside on the island-and it flowing all of his negativity, anxiety, rage, and pain out of his body. It felt better when he did that. "_I'll_ _have to do this more_ _often_." He thought, hard, "_What was that one thing I read? Another eye. A **third** eye, I believe. It comes when you have reached enlightenment and can hear and understand the gods speaking to you. A good goal for me to have."_

He knew that he could not stay on that island forever and that the ship he had come on was a nonfactor. Dagur went back to the trees, eyeing every one to be sure none turned into dragons. He cut a lot of wood and began to bind them together. More trunk pieces came and they were starting to form a boat. Dagur used his carving skills to fashion a small vessel. The morning turned to noon and the boat was finished. He knew how to work quickly and efficiently. The viking brought it to the water and stepped inside, testing to see if it would sink.

It did not, but he wanted to see how far it could go. He grabbed an oar that he had made and began to paddle out into the sea. Just as satisfaction was settling in, he felt water on his feet. He cursed and was forced to swim back to the island with the boat in tow. "Why didn't you work? I've done this plenty of times." he complained. Dagur inspected his handiwork for any cracks. There were none. "Are these trees just bad for business?" he wondered, aloud.

He added another coat of wood to fill in anything he might have missed and tried again. The same sequence occurred and Dagur was obliged to do his meditation routine. It was getting dark outside, so he started a fire. He worked more and more on the boat and even made five other ones. None worked and he felt himself getting furious. More chanting and Dagur decided to do something artistic with his time. Opening one of the boxes, he grabbed some coloring materials and walked to the wall. "_I'll draw the dragons of the riders and Heather."_ he mused and began to put Toothless on the wall.

He dared not to fall asleep again and the next day, he went down to the water and filled his bucket. Dagur used the water and cloth to clean himself and tried again for leaving the island. Nothing was working and he saw another Changewing. He was unsure if it were real or not, but was, significantly, less frightened. "Get outta here. I'm not bothering you." he shooed. The dragon snarled at him and opened his mouth to shoot acid. Dagur paled and hid in the brush. The dragon was not done with him and searched. Sniffing him out and being faster, he was, quickly, found by the reptile.

Time was of the essence and Dagur thought fast, "_They say music soothes the savage beast. Wonder if a whistle will do the trick."_ He put his hands to his mouth and made a sound that resembled a dragon call. This disoriented the Changewing and it left him alone. Letting out an inaudible sigh of relief, Dagur continued his work.

Weeks went by and the Berserker had been unable to use any of the island trees for boating materials. He was stuck. "_Maybe I'm **supposed **to be here. Like there's some reason that I can be of more purpose here and then I can leave and go somewhere else._" He was fatigued because anytime his body, practically, forced him to rest, he dreamt the worst things. This was common, but it did not make them easier.

He had completed drawing Toothless, Stormfly, and Meatlug. Hookfang, Barf and Belch, and, lastly, Windshear would follow. Dagur wanted to save the best for last with his sister's dragon. Dagur leaned back to think, _"Will Heather even want to be bothered with me? I've ruined **both** of her chances for family. She must hate me. The riders will, probably, always hate me too. Why was I so messed up?" _he ran a hand through his hair. "_Whether they always hate me or not, I'll do my best to be there for them. I owe them, at least, that."_ The man rose and looked at the island, "Well, I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other for now. It won't be like this forever, but if this is where I'm meant to stay, then I'll accept that.


	10. Where's Heather?

Dagur was standing on the deck of the hunter ship he had taken. He had just called out to Hiccup, asking him to tell Heather that he was coming for her. The Berserker needed to find her and to restore their family as well as tribe. From the impression Hiccup had given him, she was not at the Edge, so he could cross that off his go-to list. The viking found maps in the lower decks and looked through them.

"_Now where would my little sis go? I hope somewhere nice. How about another village? **That** looks like it's inhabited." _he thought, eyeing a large island, "_Just south of here."_ Dagur went back to alter his course and looked at the sky. It was a clear day, something for which he was grateful. The waters were calm and translucent as the Berserker sailed forward. Some hours went by, wind blowing in Dagur's face and refreshing him. A land mass came into view, "_Good. Will you be helpful or should I find another place?" _he pondered and pulled up to the boatyard.

"Aye, who's that?" a viking asked her companion. The other viking turned to look at the harbor, "Don't know. Let's see." The two went over to the Berserker's ship as he was harnessing it to the dock. Dagur waved to the vikings and smiled, "Hello. Don't mean to intrude, but there's a certain viking that I'm looking for and was hoping that someone might be able to help me." They eyed him, skeptically, "We'll see. Who are ya lookin' for?" Dagur started, "A young lady. She has hair like a raven that is worn in a long braid, goes around with a Razorwhip." he dragged, deciding not to say anymore if they did not already know, "Any of that sound familiar?"

The pair shook their heads, "Haven't seen anyone fittin' that description. Haven't seen anyone fittin' **your** description either. Who are ya, newcomer?" Dagur did not know how to answer and one of the vikings spoke first, "I see your ship's insignia. Are ya a dragon hunter?" "A former associate of theirs." the Berserker told. An uncomfortable silence came,_ "'Bout time to leave, I think." _he thought, cautiously, and Dagur began to undo his knot on the pillar. "Thanks for the help, anyway. Have a nice day." he called behind him.

The viking remembered another island that he had seen on the maps and started for there. He docked, seeing only a few people nearby. A tavern was up ahead and he walked into the building. Clamorous vikings sang, cheered, and gulped down their beverages. "Care for a drink, stranger?" the seller asked, as the Berserker approached the counter. From the corner of his eye, the viking saw another patron slide his chair away from him. Dagur thought over the menu's options, "I'll do the Capsicumel, please." The tavern employee went for the mead and handed it to him. "Thanks." Dagur took a, satisfied, taste of the drink. "Have you seen a lady with long, raven-colored hair in a braid? She has green eyes and a double sided ax."

The bartender shook his head, "No. Can't say I've seen someone like that. Why are you looking for her?" Dagur gave a, nonchalant, shrug, "Reasons." he replied, handing the server some coins for payment. The viking, that had slid away from him, eyed Dagur up and down, "Nice armor. Know where I can find some like it?" The Berserker frowned, thinking of where he had gotten the clothes, "The place isn't around anymore. Sorry." Dagur gulped down the rest of his mead, "Mind if I switched to a Black Mead?" he asked the waiter, who began to go for the change.

The Berserker chief stopped him, "Hold up. If you bring one of those and one Acerglyn, that'll be it." he stated. The other man nodded and brought him the drinks, accepted the payment, and went to wait on another client. With widening eyes, the other customer saw the young man down the drinks with ease. A devilish, smile went over the patron's face, "It's a special day here. We have an annual, early Snoggletog celebration. Great fun. Each year, we do a game where we see who can out mead-drink the other." Dagur's brow rose, "Why?" The other viking blinked, numbly, "Fun, mainly. The guests always participate. Want to?"

The viking, inconspicuously, viewed the room. Eyes were on him and stared straight into his soul. It was not proper to dismiss another tribe's customs while you were on their island and Dagur did want to cause a scene by seeming disrespectful. He gave a small nod and the other viking ordered some mugs of Cyser. The two drank their beverages, one after another. After a few more drinks, Dagur saw as the other man slowed with his consumption. The, lethargic, viking giggled, "Your beard isn't like mine. It's all.. scraggly." A gut-wrenching laugh emitted from the drunken fellow.

Dagur stayed silent as the older man continued, "Scar." he pointed at the Berserker's face, "Bigger than mine." the viking sounded disappointed. The, facially, scarred viking sighed and rose to leave, "Enjoy yourself." he told. The intoxicated viking reached for his arm and Dagur pulled it away. "Can't..leave. Too dangerous. Too...deranged." The chief witnessed as the other people in the tavern rose from their seats, weapons drawn. "There's a bounty on yer head, Dagur the Deranged. You've killed a lot of innocent people and betrayed one of the top dragon hunters. He wants to have a word with you." a new viking told the man.

Dagur lifted his hands, "I didn't come here to kill anybody." "No, you just wanted to find someone. Probably another poor, soon-to-be victim." A different voice called out. The Berserker grunted. There was going to be a fight no matter what he did. "You can't fight us. You've just had more meads in you than the largest viking could stomach." A third viking stated, one who had an ax. Dagur could not help, but laugh at this. "_Shows what **they** know!" _he thought, amusedly, "_No amount of alcohol could make my mind any less insane or noncommon-sensical._ _Only good thing about being Dagur: never get drunk._"

A large viking lunged at Dagur, receiving a swift kick to the chest. Another one followed and the Berserker grabbed his arm, throwing him into a different attacker. The mob tried coming all at once, only to be avoided and dodged. Dagur disarmed one viking and used the handle of the mace to knock out multiple vikings. When everyone was incapacitated, he rushed out to his ship and sailed away. Dagur ran a hand through his hair and looked at the maps again. There were no more islands near there that harbored vikings, only dragons. Those would be next and if even more islands failed, he would have to change tactics.


	11. Undercover

Dagur and Shattermaster charged into the shipyard that had been covered in smoke, due to their attacks. They would prove to Hiccup, Heather, and the other riders that it **was** a trap. Hopefully, that would save the younger vikings and let them return to Dragon's Edge, safely. From their right, arrows shot at them. Narrowly, they dodged and the Gronckle fired a lava blast. The shot hit a barrel, causing an explosion on the ship. Dragon and rider both smiled, happily, as they heard the screams of hunters. Dagur went to throw more blades at the vikings, but a catapult launched at the pair. A large boulder crashed into them and knocked them both out of the sky.

The impact made Dagur fall off of Shattermaster and they were separated. Water splashed them as they were plunged into the sea. A net was thrown over the dragon and Dagur swam over to him, quickly. He used his knife to start cutting the ropes, but a grappling chain caught Shattermaster's leg before he could be freed. The chain swiped Dagur's arm and caused him to lose his grip on the knife. The Gronckle began to get hauled onto the ship and the Berserker tried, in vain, to help him move away. "Come on, Shattermaster. You just have to keep going forward." he encouraged, tugging on the dragon with all his strength. Despite their greatest efforts, the reptile was brought onto the ship.

Dagur wished that he had carried his ax with him. He could have used that to break the chains for his new friend. The hunters kept their focus on the Berserker and fired catapults into the water. The boulders brushed past the viking and twirled him in the current change they invoked. More chains followed and, nearly, grabbed the target. This pattern continued and Dagur was, sufficiently, dizzy. A hunter got enraged that their enemy way still not defeated and he threw his sword at the swirling viking. Due to the out of control spinning, the blade missed Dagur's head, but **did **pierce his thigh. Blood seeped into the water and the young man thought, quickly, dunking his head under the blanket of sea.

Believing that their obstacle had been, effectively, removed, the hunters cheered. Dagur swam to the edge of the rocks, keeping his head under water. He waited until the hunters sailed away to climb onto the land. Full of dismay, he watched Shattermaster being shackled and forced to the lower compartments, _"Darn hunters. They'll sell him to the highest buyer and he'll be treated like a piece of property "_ he thought, miserably. Focusing so much on the dragon in need, he had forgotten about his wound. Dagur stood, planning on finding a way to track where the hunters would go. Pain shot through him as he was reminded of the gash on his leg. Mentally, he cursed and went back to the water. Since salt water helps with healing, he dipped the gash in there, "_That'll have to suffice for now. At least, until I can find something else to use."_

Dagur looked around the island, seeing which ship was the least damaged. He found it and climbed on board. Searching through the lower area, he saw some first aid equiptment and started stopping the flowing blood. After bandaging up his leg, Dagur leaned against a wall, _"The best way for me to find where the hunters are going to be is being **with **the hunters._" he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "_Hate to even **tempt **myself with that lifestyle again, but I can't let Shattermaster stay there in captivity."_ Dagur paced back and forth, limping, slightly_, "The good thing is that I never got around too many hunters, so they won't know me by my face. A fake name should do the trick. Definitely not like I couldn't seem like a villain."_

The Berserker hoisted the main sail and began to travel to an inventory station that he remembered the hunters having frequented. He had smooth sailing and pulled into the new island's harbor. Recognizing the kindred insignia, hunters came over, "What happened, man? The ship's in ruins." Dagur disembarked, "Dragons. They attacked our fleet. Left only a few alive, but the remainders of us got separated." He began to look at the merchant's supplies, "Nice weapons. Do you have anything that can help fix a ship?" The hunters spoke before the trader could answer, "You don't need to stay on that sorry excuse for a vessel. We've got plenty of ships and could use some more eyes for lookouts. Just join us." the viking offered.

Dagur turned to look at the hunters, "Thanks. Sure, I'd love to join." he grinned. The hunters gestured to their boats and the group went on board. The Berserker was shown a room and he started to get settled. "There's just one more thing." a new hunter stated, "Our leader-well not **leader,** leader. That's Viggo and then, Ryker, but on this ship Okvin is in charge. We have to run this by him before you can stay here." The new recruit nodded, understandably, "Fair enough. Do I wait on the deck or find some other place to meet up?" The hunter thought, "Don't know. This hasn't come up, so far. Uh, I'll go ask him, but maybe you **could** wait on the deck for now."

The dragon hunter went to go fetch his boss and Dagur stood on the deck, waiting. He hummed, casually, trying to seem as calm as possible. Soon, a large viking came into his view, "So, you're the new hunter among our midst." he eyed the viking, skeptically. "You **look** like you'd be fine with torturing dragons and people." The hunter channeled his inner vulture and circled the other viking. He spotted a, lackadaisical hunter and halted his walking, "Of course, I can't judge that by appearances alone." He drew his ax and handed it to Dagur, pointing at the lazy viking that had caught his attention, "Kill him." he instructed. Dagur inspected the weapon, carefully and looked at the suggested victim.

"He isn't pulling his weight or just..?" Dagur dragged and waved his hand, nonchalantly, implying that the viking's life, simply was not very meaningful. "Basically that. He doesn't do enough to convince me **not** to have him killed. Especially when it's needed to demonstrate someone's ruthlessness." Okvin replied. Dagur knew that any hesitation would be unbeneficial to his cause. "_The guy's probably killed loads of innocent people and dragons. He deserves it."_ he tried to console himself. Dagur went over to the viking, who just then noticed what was going on. The hunter fell onto his knees, "Please! Don't kill me! I'll do whatever Okvin says. Just give me a chance to change!"

Hearing his plea for mercy-the last part, anyway-reminded Dagur of his own. He **had **changed. For the better, unlike what that hunter had meant. And, alas, there he was about to take another life. He knew that in future battles, he would, most assuredly, do that, but that was not the issue. He feared not the kill, but the satisfaction he obtained from it. Wanting to hear no more cries or beggings, Dagur ran the ax through the viking's body, immediately, killing him. The pain coursed through the victim's body the same as the adrenaline rushed into Dagur's. He felt invigorated and the hunters all could see that. Okvin, cautiously, walked over to him, "Well, you're definitely a killer. No mercy for the pitiful. Only joy in your work. We could use **more **hunters like you that don't care about anything more than the kill. Welcome to my fleet."

Though meant as a compliment, Okvin's words cut, deeply. Dagur returned to his new room and held his head in his hands, _"What's wrong with me? Why do I love violence so much? That felt **so good!** Ugh. I'll have to try harder when this is all over."_ He lied down on the, uncomfortable, cot. "_It's been a long day and is going to be an even longer night._" he lamented, knowing that he would get no rest. Whatever he would have to do while with the hunters, he would. Just until he got his dragon back, and then he would make it up by being as kind as he could for the rest of his life. There were so many things he had to fix. His life had been spared and he was determined to make the gods glad that they did.


	12. Detours

Dagur and Shattermaster flew past the hunter ships and fired a blast at them, catching their attention. The pair's plan was to lead the fleet away, so that Hiccup, Heather, and the other Gronckles could escape. Some hunters turned to see them and shot catapults at the two. "Not **this **time." Dagur stated, as they swerved off the path of danger. Staying just out of range, the dragon and Berserker brought the hunters to a far, barren island.

Shattermaster fired a lava blast at the steering wheels of the ships, causing them to go out of control. The vessels crashed into the island and the Berserker had Shattermaster fly over to them. The reptile blasted the opening hatches, destroying them. Next, he shot through them and into the lower compartments. That ruined their supplies and Dagur laughed, "Ha! That ought to hold them for a long while. They'll be lucky if anybody even knows where this island is." Dagur said to the Gronckle.

Due to the prior flight's duration, Shattermaster was fatigued and Dagur pointed to an island that was not far from them. "Let's land there for a bit." he instructed. Gratefully, the Gronckle complied and they alighted upon the ground. Dagur dismounted Shattermaster and grabbed a large rock, tossing it into the dragon's mouth. "Can't have my buddy starving." the Berserker told him, smiling. They had traveled for a while to get to that location and could have used some strengthening. Dagur walked over to some tall grass and began to cut it with a blade. Once he had harvested enough to make a nice-sized bundle, he started his project.

Working, diligently, Dagur turned the bunches of grass into a, woven together, net. Shattermaster watched him, amusedly, as he did this. The Berserker carried the net over to the coast of the island and went into the water. In the sea, he meditated, sitting down and putting the backs of his hands over his knees. He was buoyant as the waves, peacefully, moved the viking. Beguiled by his calm demeanor, some fish swam near and around him. Leaping into action like a tiger, Dagur flung the net over the aquatic creatures. They were caught and he started hauling them back to the shore. Next, he cut some bark off of a few trees and arranged a fireplace. "Would you do the honors?" the Berserker asked the Gronckle. Obliging, Shattermaster fired a lava blast onto the wood.

Dagur sighed, contentedly, "Gotta admit. Making fire is a lot easier when there's a dragon nearby." He looked at the fish and raised one for the Gronckle, "Do you like fish, Shattermaster? I've only ever seen you eat rocks." The dragon's face scrunched up at the fish's smell and he made a gagging noise. Dagur laughed, "I guess, that's **why** I've only seen you eat rocks." He took out a knife and gutted the fish, then put it on the end of a stick to hold over the flame. "We'll have a lot of sunlight tomorrow to fly in. It's the longest day of the year-Midnight Sun, some call it." he noted. Chuckling, he spoke again, "I've always liked that day. It's the one time where everyone else acts so strangely that my natural behavior doesn't get noticed."

For a moment, Dagur's grin faltered and Shattermaster snuggled next to him. "Thanks." he said, sincerely. They finished up their meals and Dagur patted the reptile's head, "Get some rest for tonight. I don't know if you normally have a hard time adjusting or not to the, chronic, daylight." Shattermaster eyed him in askance, "I'm not going to sleep." When the dragon seemed to frown, he groaned, "I'm **not**. Plus, think of it this way. Since I'm used to not sleeping, having no night doesn't affect me. Sounds helpful, doesn't it?" he questioned, smugly. The Gronckle gave in and allowed himself to rest.

The following morning, the two headed off for the Edge. They had to go past some islands and saw a fisher's ship and a hunter vessel. "Hey, what's going on down there?" Dagur wondered, hearing some squabbling. Inconspicuously, they flew over to the boats. There was a full shipload of hunters and one of them was holding a viking by his throat, keeping his feet off of the ground. "Are you sure that you don't want to donate your catches to us today? We're pretty hungry." the larger viking taunted. His fellow hunters cheered, backing him up. Dagur scowled at the scene and readied both himself and Shattermaster to attack, but stopped when he heard another sound along with the jibber jabber. It was the sound of crying.

Trapped under a weighed down net, a little girl was on the fisher's boat. "Daddy!" she called out, worried about the suffocating viking. Dagur knew that the father's state was more pressing at the moment, so he gave Shattermaster a hand signal. The dragon blasted near the vikings, causing the attacker to let go of the parent. "Good boy." Dagur complimented, "Now, send some more blasts-but don't hit the fisher-while I go get the kid. You'd probaly scare her." He leapt onto the fisher's ship and took the net off of the small child. She eyed him, warily, "Th-thanks." He gave her a smile, "You're welcome. When we go get your dad, stay hidden and put. Okay?" She nodded and ducked down.

Dagur climbed up the mast of the boat and used it to get close enough to the hunter's vessel to board the ship. Some hunters came at him with their maces out, enticing him to disarm and incapacitate them. "Always a pleasure defeating you." he gave a, dramatic, bow and went over to the father, who was holding his throat. "Thank you." he croaked out. Dagur nodded and the older viking rushed over to his daughter, giving her a loving embrace. The Berserker observed the affection and went down into the lower level of the ship. He found and took some maps and coins. Finished, he signalled for Shattermaster to come back over to him. He got on the Gronckle's back and continued their flight.

They had flown for half an hour before Dagur spoke, "Those two looked so happy that they had each other." His face saddened, "It's my fault that Heather never got to meet our father. He really loved her, Shattermaster. Probably would have never left, if she had been around." Suddenly, he brightened, "That's it! Maybe he's still there-wherever 'there' is. We'll find him and then Heather will have someone else to love her too." He thought, hard, "Let's find a village and see if anyone has seen him." The Gronckle gave a sound of compliance and they altered their course.

Five miles from their coordinates, Dagur and Shattermaster found a little market. They landed just far enough away so that no one would see the dragon and Dagur walked the rest of the way to the village. At the market, he saw a cloak, similar to the one he had used before to help conceal his identity. He kept his body, partially, turned from the vendor, pretending to be looking at other vikings, "How much is this cloak?" he asked. The merchant did not notice anything strange, "Five copper coins." Dagur handed the amount to the man and put the cloak on. He went into the village and saw a viking by himself. When the viking saw Dagur coming over, he got excited that he would have a conversation with someone.

"Hi!" the viking greeted, overjoyed. "Hi. I was wondering if you've ever seen a new viking come around here. He'd had been a little taller than I am, with thick black hair, green eyes, and normally wore a cloak." Dagur stated. The viking thought, "Can't say I remember seeing anyone like that and I see **everyone** that comes to this island. There's another tribe a few days journey from here. Just south of us." The Berserker thanked the viking and asked a few more people for confirmation. They all confirmed that no one had seen Oswald, so Dagur returned to his Gronckle. "Okay, south it is. Let's go."

The viking was correct about the duration. It took three days to get to the other tribe and the sun had still not gone down. "Isn't it exhilarating, Shattermaster? No night!" Dagur sighed, happily. They landed on the island and, again, the dragon waited by the coast. Dagur put his cloak back on and went into town. The effects of sleep deprivation were clear as vikings stumbled, spewed jibberish, and yelled at inanimate objects. Frankly, Dagur found it more than a little amusing. He tried to find a sound of mind person to ask and saw one that looked as though she fit the description.

"Excuse me, Miss." he started. The viking turned to see him and squinted to see his face under the cloak's shadow, "Do I know you?" He shrugged, "Doubt it. I'm just here to ask if anyone's seen a dark haired, green eyed, man that carries around an ax. More of a peaceful type. Have you?" The viking laughed, heartily, "**Peaceful**? I definitely would have remembered seeing someone like that. Nope, I haven't seen your mystery man. Why are you looking for him? Is he in trouble or something?" Dagur started to make his way to the door, "Hopefully not. Thanks for your time." As he exited the building, a viking fell in front of him. Angrily, the viking got up and pointed behind him, "That viking pushed me! You saw him too right?" he asked Dagur. The Berserker looked to see nothing, but air, "Um-" "Nevermind! I don't need a stranger's pity." the viking ran off sobbing.

Dagur could not contain a cackle as he made his way back to Shattermaster, "Why don't we get out of here before they think **you're** the viking and **I'm **the Gronckle?" The two flew off more and did not stop, until they saw another hunter ship. "A little detour couldn't hurt." They swooped down, blasting the ship and seeing that it did nothing to change the vessel. "What the..?" Dagur saw that under the wood of the boat there was the same dragonproof material that the hunters' cages had been made out of. "Just determined to make it hard on themselves." Dagur sucked his teeth.

The hunters shot chains at them and Shattermaster pulled up to avoid the weapons. "We'll need something strong enough to penetrate their material." Dagur looked at the Gronckle, scanning his body until he reached the tail. A deranged smile went across his face, "Think that I have a plan. Land over there and I'll tell you." Shattermaster landed on some rocks and Dagur dismounted, "So, if you fly far away from the ships and charge full speed ahead, that might work. You'd just need to turn into a ball and then end with your tail facing the ship. Sound doable?" Shattermaster wagged his tail and started to fly.

The Gronckle did as Dagur instructed and crashed a hole into the vessel. The ship started to sink and the hunters jumped into the sea to avoid getting burned alive with lava. One hunter remained as he struggled to decide on what to do. The dragon-viking duo went over to the lone viking, nearly, scaring him to death. The viking was very small, scrawny even, and screamed when he saw the two. "What can you tell me about Viggo?" Dagur questioned. The tiny viking trembled, but stayed silent. Dagur sneered at the lack of response and, seeing the sneer, the viking began to ramble on, "I know where Viggo keeps his gold! It's three islands East from here and all of it's there! I don't know anything else about him!" He covered his head with his arms to protect himself. Since the viking was already stranded, Dagur and Shattermaster left the viking to his tremors. "Well, boy. We have a new mission."


	13. Home and Back

Dagur and Heather flew into the sunset, happily. "So, where are we going?" Heather asked. Her brother looked at her, "Berserker Island. It's about time that you got to see our home again." he smiled at her. The flight was a smooth one, but there was a question tingling in Heather's mind, relentlessly, "Dagur, before we get there, I have a question." "Shoot." he replied. "Why did you send me adrift? You've never acted like it was because you hated me or anything." The elder viking tried not to appear sad and answered, "I **never** hated you and wasn't trying to lose you either." he admitted. Dagur took a deep breath and started his recounting.

"It was one of Dad's busier days than usual and he said that we were too young to be kept at home-but, he really just didn't want you to be cooped up in the hut all day with me, so he had us go out with him. Of course, since he was going around the entire time, we were on our own. That wouldn't have been a problem, if there hadn't been this one viking. I didn't think that I'd be able to keep you safe from him and was trying to avoid him, myself too, honestly." Dagur chuckled, embarrassed, "I took this boat that I had made and figured that we could go on a little sail while we waited. It was really nice at first. You loved all the little waves rocking the ship and kept blowing your horn in harmony with them." He smiled at his younger sister, lovingly, recalling the sweet moment. The Berserker's face clouded over as he continued, "The little waves turned into **large** ones, quickly. Too quickly. Before I could even react, an undertow pulled us far out to sea. Some lightning struck the boat and broke it into pieces. I managed to get you onto some dirftwood, but the waves kept taking you away from me. Soon, you were out of my sight and lost."

Heather looked at the seas, "I just figured that you decided didn't want a sister anymore." Dagur shooked his head, fervently, "Never that. There wasn't a cloud in the sky that day. Everything seemed so calm-just like it does right now." He paused, "I really did try to get you back, Sis. It just-nothing was working... I'm sorry." The sincerity in the viking's voice resonated with Heather, "I know." she replied. She had not been certain before, but this time, she was sure that he was. His apology was a loaded statement and she was willing to forgive him for it all.

An island came into view and Heather pointed to it, "Is that it?" The older Berserker gave a nod, "Yep. This is it. Home." The dragons flew closer and halted, shaking their heads as if to clear them, "What's wrong, Shattermaster?" Dagur asked the Gronckle. Windshear was also struggling to keep her altitude, "Woah, girl! Calm down." Heather exclaimed. Her brother looked to the upper part of Berserker Island, "Let's see if they can fly up there." he called over. The riders directed the reptilian fliers upward and landed on the summit. The Razorwhip and Gronckle began to calm down, "What was **that **about?" Heather wondered, aloud. "No idea." Dagur answered, frowning, "They seem okay now, though. I think, we can head down to greet the others." With one last pet on Windshear's head and a deep breath, Heather followed the viking into town.

A Berserker walked up to them, "Chief, you're back!" Herald cried, excitedly, "And with a guest. Hello, Miss." he smiled, kindly, at the viking. Dagur strode into town and climbed onto the platform in the center, "Fellow Berserkers," he began, "Many years ago, a wonderful addition to our tribe was lost; however, fate has shone down on us and I can tell you that Oswald's daughter-my sister-Heather has returned to Berserker Island!" A cheer arose from the crowd and the young Berserker was flattered. She smiled, appreciately, at the acceptance.

Dagur got off of the stage to go back to Heather, "This is Herald. He's the general of our armada. And a great one at that." The soldier blushed, "Thanks, Chief." Another viking came up, timidly, "And this," Dagur said, "is Vorg. He's a **very** **patient** captain." The Berserker turned to the viking, "I have to apologize for all those things I've done. Finally realized that pushing vikings off ships and injuring them really isn't the best way to treat people." Vorg was, visibly, appalled by the kind sentiment, "Are you all right, Chief?" Dagur nodded, "Quite. A lot's changed since I've been here." He turned to both soldiers, "We won't-I won't be hunting the dragon riders anymore. We're at peace with Berk again. **Allies** even."

Both Berserkers looked unconvinced, "Why the sudden change of heart?" Herald inquired. "Tomorrow's not promised, General. Have to make the most of it when you can. No one wants to leave, still having loads of things that they should've done." the chief divulged. The Captain ventured to speak, "So, you won't threaten us anymore or inflict, bodily, harm?" Dagur smiled, "No harm, I assure you. Now," he clasped his hands together, "let's ready the hall for a feast in honor of our Berserker princess." The vikings nodded and began to alert people. The smile on Dagur's face could not have been wider if it had been on the face of Shattermaster. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour!" he said to Heather, eagerly, grabbing her hand and leading her through the island.

They, finally, stopped moving as Heather went to a dark area near a cave, "Has anyone gone in there?" Her brother walked over, "Yeah, **I **have. Was almost crushed too. The whole cave's hollow, but I've seen that ice has filled it up, recently." Heather's eyes gaped, "Ice? How did it just fill up the cave?" Dagur shrugged, "Don't know. I wondered about that, but didn't really want to go in there and check. You know, due to the whole caving in part. I'm still not sure if the ice is solid or just trying to lure someone in to their grave." Heather started to walk away, "Are we ready to go to the hall?" Dagur grinned, "Actually, there's one thing left. Remember that Berserk Chicken I told you about?" She nodded. "I'm going to show you how to make it." he beamed and led her to his hut.

The two arrived at the hut and Heather took it all in. Walking over to a chair, she stopped, "Is this Dad's throne?" Dagur looked at it and bobbed his head, "Always used to sit there and think about traveling throughout the archipelago." Heather rocked back and forth on her feet, "What was he like?" The chief caressed the armrest of the throne, "He was adventurous-a total day-dreamer." he told, "He was brave in battle, a skilled fighter, and loved you to pieces." Heather's eyes lit up, "I always felt like he had, but of course, had never been certain. It's nice to know." she smiled, somewhat sadly.

A thought crossed her mind, "Do **you** have a throne?" Her brother chuckled, "It was on the stage that I announced you on." Heather laughed, "That thing with the weapons sticking out of it?" Dagur laughed as well, "Could there be any better throne for me? I hardly even sit on it, though. Do you want one?" he asked, innocently. Heather shook her head, "No, I'm fine. I'm not the chieftess." Thoughtfulness was written on her brother's face, "You're not, but you **could **be my second-in-command. Want the position?" Heather smiled, "I'd love it." She turned to the dining area, "Shall we begin the meal?" Dagur beamed and went to take out some ingredients.

The Berserker chief mixed in the seasoning and his sister watched, "I never would've pegged you as a cook. Or anything artistic, truthfully." she admitted. Dagur chuckled, "Well, people usually assume different things about me, so you're not alone. I **do **like artsy stuff, though. Any way I can be creative, I like. Sometimes, I'll draw, but it can be challenging trying not to do murals of execution ideas. You'd be shocked at all the ways you can kill someone without being standard." he informed her and began to stab the chicken, more zealously than common. Dagur stopped, seeing his sister's face, "Heh, sorry. But, you have to pierce the meat. That way the flavor will seep through." Heather blinked her disturbed expression away, "Good to know."

The meals were completed and the banquet was a marvelous one. Everyone laughed and sang for its duration, making it a joyous occassion for Heather. She, also, loved the Berserk Chicken her brother had made. It was so intriguing to the viking to see her heritage in full display. Berserkers had been thought of as dangerous, crazy, and even foolish vikings, but she saw that this was not true. While she knew first hand that her brother was crazy and could be dangerous, the rest of the vikings were not threatening in the slightest. Above that, none of the Berserkers were fools and far more intelligent than she had thought, previously.

Night came well before the party concluded. After it had, Heather wondered where she would stay. "Hey, Dagur, where do I go for tonight?" He looked at her, "Your room at the hut was never changed into anything. You're free to stay there." he offered, hopefully. She nodded and they returned to the hut. Heather went to her old room and was surprised that it was so well-kept, "It's not in ruins." she noted, impressed. Dagur scoffed, "Of course not! Just because you weren't here didn't mean that I wasn't hoping we'd be reunited. And when we did, I wanted you to have a nice place to come back to." He pointed to a corner, "I figured that you probably wouldn't want stuffed animals covering the room anymore, so I put your toys over there for you to still see."

Heather eyed the room. It had been beautifully decorated in mature, yet delicate, furnitures and designs. "Did you do all this?" she inquired. Dagur was nonchalant, "There've been a lot of changes since I wasn't sure what your taste would be like." "**This**." she stated, "I really like it. Thanks." With a parting hug, Dagur left her in the room and went to his own. Heather plopped down on her bed, contentedly, "_This isn't so bad here, after all."_ she thought and drifted into slumber filled with pleasant dreams. Such a fate so kind was not for Dagur and he did not rest, as usual. Consumed by the happiness of the day, he had forgotten about the horrors of night and jolted awake. "_Can't get rest for **one ****night**!" _he thought, angrily. Dagur got up and readied himself for the next day, "_Might as well do some training now."_ Quietly, he exited the hut and went outside.

Time went by and one day, Heather met up with the chief in the morning and saw him reading a letter, "What's that?" He folded the note, "A letter from the Edge. Our brother wants us to go there to discuss our next move against Viggo." Heather mounted Windshear and the four embarked on their journey. They arrived and greeted the riders, "Brother!" Dagur called out, happily, hugging the Berkian. "Thanks for coming." Hiccup wheezed. When Dagur let go, the heir started, "We just need to wait for the rest of them, now." The Berserker's brow rose, "Who else is coming?" Hiccup peered over to the sky, "My dad, Gobber, and the A team. They're the ones that helped us defeat you that one day." Dagur mouthed "oh" and, anxiously, awaited the arrival of the others.

The Berkians landed on the island and frowned, slightly, at the Berserker. Gustav stuck out his tongue and, immediately, hid behind Fanghook for fear of retaliation. Sighing, Gobber went past the boy and tended to Grump, keeping an eye on the Berserker chief. Not wasting time, Stoick went to find Hiccup, brushing past Dagur. "Do we really have to work with **him**, Son?" Stoick questioned, quietly. Hiccup nodded, "Remember, he's changed, Dad. Plus, he and Sleuther can help us take down the hunters." The Berkian chief sighed, heavily, "Fine, but he and I need to have a talk first." he told, firmly, walking to away. Hiccup ran a hand through his hair, _"Whoo. I tried, Dagur."_

Stoick walked up to Dagur, expecting to back him into the wall. The younger viking held his ground, but stayed silent. "My son claims that you've saved his life and have been quite helpful, lately. Despite all that, don't think that I've forgotten about what you've done **before**." He gave a death glare, "Hurt my son or his friends and you will deal with **me**. Understand that?" Dagur gave a small nod, "Yes sir." he said, calmly. The elder chief stepped back and went into the hut. "Begin, Hiccup." Stoick instructed. Hiccup nodded and told his plan. Everything was, finally, set to end the whole ordeal with the hunters, once and for all.


	14. Redo and Undo

Shattermaster laid down on the ground, being examined by Gobber, while Dagur patted his head. "Is he going to be all right?" the Berserker asked. Gobber sniffed at the Gronckle and rubbed his chin, "Think so. He won't be able to fly too long, though, and **especially** not in battles." Dagur eyed his reptilian friend, sadly, "Looks like you'll get to rest on Berserker Island, buddy." He looked at Gobber, "Thank you." the viking told, gratefully. The Berkian rose from the ground and saw his sincerity, "It's nothing, Dagur." The welder sighed and smiled, "I guess, we never thanked you for helping us retrieve our gold. Course you **were** the one that filled Hiccup's head with the idea to go to the auction." he joked. Dagur laughed, "Trust me, that part was all him."

Gobber plopped down in a chair, "So, how's Berserker Island?" Dagur exhaled, heavily, and stopped petting the dragon, "It's in ruins. I sent for a ship to come and bring us back, since I wasn't sure if Shattermaster would be able to fly. Good thing, apparently." He brightened, slightly, "The good news is that no one was hurt, so we'll all be able to rebuild." The blacksmith leaned back in his seat, "Sounds like you'll be busy. Are you planning on renewing the peace treaty, eventually?" The Berserker smiled, "I do. Haven't found the time to head over to Berk and do it officially, yet, but it's on my to-do list."

The two vikings heard a muffled calling of Gobber's name, "And that'll be Stoick." he said, rising to stand. He made his way to the door and hesitated, "How about after you get things settled on Berserker Island, you come over to Berk and we get that treaty done. That should give me enough time to convince the ol' chief." he offered. Dagur brightened, "Works for me. I'll send a message, so you know we're coming." Gobber nodded and exited the hut. A horn rung out and Dagur peeked through the doorway to see that one of his ships had arrived. The Berserker walked back to Shatternaster and helped him stand, "Come on, little buddy. You can make it." The two made their way to the coast and borded the vessel, meeting up with Heather and Windshear.

"How is he?" Heather inquired, asking about the Gronckle. Dagur looked at the dragon lying down, "He's going to be fine as long as he doesn't overexert himself." His sister walked to the side of the ship and eyed the Edge, "Well, are you ready?" There was a slight silence as Dagur frowned, thinking hard, "Almost." he finally said, "There's one more thing that I want to do." Before Heather could ask what, he leapt onto the shore and headed to the stables. At the pins, Sleuther was looking discontent and seemed to liven up, after seeing the Berserker. The Triple Stryke rushed over to the viking and lowered his head. "Hey, Hiccup, mind if I ask Sleuther about returning with us." Dagur questioned. The Berkian raised his head, "Not at all. He's been pretty down since you left." Smiling, the older viking moved towards the dragon.

"Hello, Mr. Triple Stryke. I was wondering if you'd like to come back to Berserker Island with Heather and I?" Dagur asked. The dragon seemed to smile and ascended, happily, in the air for his reply. Dagur laughed at the sight, "I'll take that as a yes. The ship's this way." He waved goodbye to the Berkians and began to lead the dragon to the vessel. Not even getting too far, Sleuther scoope the viking up onto his back and flew onto the deck. "Interesting luggage." Heather joked, seeing the pair. "Seemed like a shame to leave him here." Dagur told her, eying the Triple Stryke, admirably. The chief dismounted and promenaded to the wheel, grinning, "Hoist the main sail, Vorg. We're charting out course for home."

The vikings and dragons arrived at Berserker Island and set to work, immediately, with rebuilding. "Herald, have your squad start fixing the storage bins. Vorg, you're on trading post-repair duty with your team. Heather and I will bring some Berserkers to fix up the huts." Dagur declared. They went off to their, respective, jobs and were getting much accomplished. As Dagur was steadying a roof back onto a home, a Berserker came up to him. "Chief, an unknown ship has been spotted coming into our harbor." the viking stated. Dagur's brow furrowed, "Come make sure this doesn't fall and I'll check it out." The citizen complied and the chief rushed off to see who was approaching.

Dagur squinted at the seas, trying to decipher whose ship it was as the vessel drew closer. He grabbed one of his knives and pointed it at a figure standing at the steering wheel. "State your business for coming here." he ordered. If the person were a hunter, he would throw the blade into the viking's throat. The man on the ship raised his hands in surrender, "It's me, Savage!" he called out. Dagur lowered the weapon and grinned, "Savage! I had no idea where you've been." The former Outcast disembarked, "Just trying to stay alive, mainly." The chief's face saddened, "I'm sorry that I left you there. I tried to find you, but couldn't. Where **were** you? We were supposed to head out around the back of the cave." The other viking rubbed the back of his neck, "I got caught up in the dealings with Ryker. Guess, I forgot where I should've been." he lied.

Dagur patted Savage on his back, "At least, you're back now." he said, kindly, invoking a confused expression from the viking. They went into the village and the newcomer looked around in shock, "What happened here?" Some Berserkers went by, carrying wooden pillars to use for housing supports. "We got attacked by the hunters. Some 'Project Shellfire' caused this mess." Savage shook his head, "All that from freeing Ms. Heather? You **are** family. Thought that they'd be more understanding, considering they're siblings too." he stated, disbelievingly.

Dagur chuckled, "Well, I've done a few more things against them than that. Heather and I are working with the dragon riders now." Savage looked confused and Dagur elaborated, "At first, it was because that was the only way to get Heather to forgive me, but they really aren't bad to be around. You might end up liking them too." Savage gave a nod, "I'll try sir." A Berserker called for Dagur to help them set up one of the pillars, the vikings that were doing so were being crushed. The chief went to help them and missed the, plotting, grimace on the former Outcast's face.

Weeks passed and the island was almost returned to its glory. The necessities had been been rebuilt, but the smaller details had not yet been added. Again, a Berserker approached the chief, "Dragon riders incoming, Dagur." The viking went to greet the riders and saw three. Stoick, Gobber, and Gustav landed on the island and dismounted their dragons. "Welcome." Dagur told, slightly, surprised to see them. The Berkian chief looked worn out and walked up to him, "Could we talk for a moment?" he whispered. The Berserker nodded and led him into the village. "So, what's going on? Are the riders all right?" he asked, growing concerned. "Oh, **they're** fine. The problem is that kid." Stoick pointed back to where the other two had been left.

"He's a pain bigger than that dragon he flies. I can't take it anymore!" the Berkian proclaimed, exasperated, "Everywhere I turn, he's causing some kind of trouble. Could you keep him here for a little while?" Dagur bit his lip, "'Here'? Um-" "Not forever, but maybe a couple of months or so? You could consider it a test to see if you really can stand to not kill someone who isn't a, technical, enemy. Here," Stoick pulled out a scroll, "I'll even sign my half of the peace treaty." He handed the paper to Dagur, who looked down at it. "I'm losing my mind being followed my him every second of everyday." the older chief told. Dagur sighed, "All right. I'll take him for a little bit. What does he really do?" Stoick breathed a breath of sigh, "What **doesn't **he? I thank you for this, Dagur." The Berserker signed his part of the treaty and, reluctantly, returned to where the others were.

Gobber looked apologetic, "This was all he wanted to do as soon as I told him. Took every effort I had just to have him wait **this** long." he divulged, quietly. "Welcome to your new home for now, Gustav." Stoick declared, happily. "Wha-?" was all the little Berkian could muster. "You'll be staying here for some time." his chief stated. "But, why, Chief?" Stoick frowned, "Because I said so, Gustav." he told, firmly. The younger viking shrunk, pitifully, and Dagur rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Because, you'll be my new Berserker Apprentice. It's a great honor." he fabricated. Gustav beamed, "Really? Wow. Cool." Gobber got on Grump's back, "Yep, so just make sure you listen to what Dagur says and try not to be too much of a burden on him." Gustav appeared offended, "A burden? Never. Let's get started!" he ran down into the village, leaving Stoick shining with content.

"Feel that, Gobber? It's the sensation of peace." the Berkian leader stated, serenely, "Thanks again, Dagur." With that, they flew off. Full of regret already, Dagur turned and followed the viking into his island. Heather looked up from arranging some axes and eyed her brother, in askance, "Everytime you leave, you come back with somebody." she noted. "Trust me." he told her, "This was **not** part of any plan." Gustav ran around the village, speaking to everyone he saw and touching everything. "Why is he here?" Heather inquired. "Stoick asked me to watch him for some time. They couldn't take him anymore on Berk." The sound of glass shattering made them both cringe, "So **we** get to deal with him. Great." Heather replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dagur ran off to see qhat broke and found some pieces of mugs laying on the ground. Gustav was not there any longer and was about to leap off of the-not yet sturdy-stage, which would crash him into a carrier for a baby in the process. Dagur caught him by the arm, as he jumped, and yanked him back onto the solid ground. "What was that for?" the Berkian asked, irritated. Dagur was about to squeeze his arm so tightly that his blood would not be able to circulate, but stopped himself. Thinking a quick meditation, he calmed down and spoke, "Time is of the essence, Gustav. You don't have enough of it to run around here. We have important business to attend to."

The teenager's eyes twinkled, "'important business'? What kind?" Dagur thought, quickly, "If you're going to be a Berserker Apprentice, you need to know about our people. Learn our history, songs, fighting techniques." He counted off with his fingers. Gustav ate up every word like it was a burly cake, "When do I start?" Dagur clapped him on the back, hard, "Effective, immediately. Let's go. You can learn with the other students." Keeping Gustav close and in his sight, the chief brought him to a building where Berserker youths were learning some history. "Class, you have a new pupil. His name is Gustav and he'll be here for a little while, learning our culture and heritage." Dagur informed the group.

The students gave small waves and the Berkian sat down at an open desk. "Okay, shall we go over the extraordinary battles of General Haggard?" the instructor inquired. Dagur stayed to hear, due to him loving tales of his great uncle, and to watch Gustav. The young viking's mind wandered throughout the entire lesson. "_They are going to be **so** happy that they have me here. Can't wait until the dragon riders come and see how valuable I am. It'll show them that they should've been nicer. I could have been **their** apprentice. Dagur's smarter than I thought he was, picking me to do this."_ the boy mused. When the time had come for a review and writing down what they had just learned, Dagur saw Gustav peeking over at another student's paper. Quickly, the boy jotted down the words onto his own, to Dagur's disappointment. "_Really not going to even earn this title, huh?"_ he thought. Frowning, slightly, Dagur left the room and went back to fixing up the island.

An hour went by and a head popped up out of some stuffing for blankets. Taken off guard, Heather punched the head. "Ow!" Gustav complained, rubbing his jaw. Dagur contained his laughter(barely) and strode over to the boy. "The class is done." Gus explained, frowning at the Berserker second-in-command. The chief stroked his beard, thoughtfully, "Then, the songs are next." He brought the boy over to a viking choir and went up to the conductor, "Sorry to do this to you, Helga, but can you keep him here? Just to see if he can learn any songs while we finish setting stuff up." The Berserker had apprehension, but complied, "I'll do what I can, Dagur." she stated. Gustav marched over to the stands to look at some music and skimmed it with his eyes. "_I don't need to practice. I can just lip-synch to the others and that'll be good."_ he thought, arrogantly.

A song began and Gustav pretended to know the lyrics with the choir vikings. Dagur spotted his mouth being off with what the others were singing and caught on to what he was doing. The Berserker shook his head and went to finish the stables that he had started. They finally were done cleaning and Gustav leapt onto a premade bed, ruining it. Dagur frowned at the boy, "Another thing about being an apprentice, don't mess up things." Gustav got off of the mattress, briskly, "Sorry. I can fix it." It looked started to look worse than before and Dagur could not watch anymore, "That's enough of that. How about I fix this and show you some of the Berserker fighting techniques?" The Berkian grinned, broadly, "Okay."

The two traveled to an arena in the village and Dagur handed the boy a spear, "This can be a great source of protection **and** destruction. I've used it as both." He chuckled, disturbingly, thinking about different scenarios, "Anywho, I'll show you how to fight Berserker style." A deranged twinkle was in his eyes and Gustav gulped, "Eh, I'm more of a watch-to-learn type of viking, so maybe if you show me, I'll be able to try it out later. It really has to sink in." he lied through his teeth. The twinkle in Dagur's eyes faded and he fought a scowl from forming. "I'll demonstrate a quick one." he said, knowing that it would make no difference.

Briefly, he jabbed the weapon into the air, imagining it to be a foe, and dug the spear downwards. "And that's how you disembowel an opponent." he stated, satisfied. Dagur put the weapon back and went to do his usual rounds around the island, making sure everyone was fine, with the Berkian trailing behind him. Time passed and he was growing to dislike the boy very much, but was getting better at hiding that fact. Soon, it grew too strong for the viking and he slumped against a wall in Heather's hut. "He's gotta go, Sis." Dagur said, irritated, "I can't get him off my back for two seconds! Is he behind me?" He turned to see.

Heather laughed, "No, he's not. Didn't you agree to keep him?" Dagur ran a hand through his hair, "Not **permanently**! I had planned on an extra three weeks, but it has to be this upcoming one. That should give the riders time to receive the message and come. At least, we'll get to see them. That'll let **some** good come out of all this." he said, drained. Dagur headed for the door, "I'll tell Gustav that he's graduating two weeks early. It should shut him up enough to leave without causing anymore problems." He went for a piece of paper and began to write. Attaching it to a Terrible Terror, he sent the letter out. An enormous smile crossed Dagur's expression, "_Just a little bit longer and this'll all be __over."_


	15. No More Holdbacks

The Berserkers stood in the prison, eying Savage who had his hands chained behind him. "**Treason** is a high crime." Dagur stated, glaring, "You threatened to kill Heather, tried to kill me, and **did** put me in a cell." The chief's voice rose, slightly, as he felt more rage over what had occurred. The former Outcast and other traitors glowered at him, "You never got betrayed before when you were evil." Savage hissed, "You always struck first. Losing your touch, Dagur." The Berserker seethed with anger, "I don't expect people to turn on me, when I'm actually treating them like individuals and not property." he told, through gritted teeth, "Is being evil more valuable to you than having self-respect?" Savage stared at the chief, blandly, "Being evil is more important than **everything**. Can't miss something you never had."

Dagur's eyebrows rose and he rubbed the bridge of his nose, "You're a lost cause, aren't you? You'll never change solely because you don't **want **to." The look in Savage's eyes only confirmed what the Berserker had stated. Dagur looked to the Berserkers that had turned traitor, "You all think the same?" They gave firm nods, "Villainy or nothing at all." one said. The chief sighed, "Then, for your crimes against Berserker Island, I sentence you all to be executed by tomorrow afternoon." Despite wanting to appear brave, the inmates' faces protrayed nothing other than sheer terror. Heather put a hand on her brother's shoulder, "Dagur, let's talk about this for a moment." He frowned at her. "Please?" she pressed. Reluctantly, Dagur exited the jail to speak with the Berserker.

Once outside, Heather began, "Don't be so drastic." Dagur's eyes flashed, angrily, "'**Drastic**'? Like how Savage figured that instead of just not staying here, he had to take over? Like how he tried to crush me with a boulder? Or maybe something along the lines of him throwing me into another cell?! Nope, I know it. How he put a blade to your throat!" The second-in-command leaned away from the chief, instinctively, and he took notice, "I'm sorry." he sighed, looking down, "I just want everyone to know that if they do anything to you, they'll pay." Heather smiled, "Believe me, they know. They know that you're protective and ruthless, what they **don't **know is if you can be a gentle leader. Don't repay cruelty with more of it. Lead by example, Brother." She looked at him with confident and caring eyes.

Dagur made a face at her and huffed, "I'll do my best. What if they escape, though? I know that being put in a place to rot forever doesn't mean that you **will**." Heather thought about it, "How about, if they do escape, we deal with them your way?" The chief brightened, "Fair enough, Sis." The two went back into the jail and Dagur looked at the prisoners, "Your lives have been spared this time, but if you try to leave here-" he brandished his ax. The vikings paled and were put into cells. Dagur and Heather went back to the rest of the village and the Berserker debuty frowned, "Things have been coming up to stop us, but we really need to continue your search to find our father." Dagur nodded, "Agreed. Like I told you before, an Eastern Market viking probably has some stuff for us to use. He's a cleptomaniac. Would surprise me if he hasn't found **anything **in relation to dad." Heather grinned, "So, is it settled? Can we head out tomorrow morning?" Dagur clapped her on the back, "By this time tomorrow, Heather, we'll be on our expedition."

The next day, the two vikings were en route to the Eastern Market and landed by its harbor. Dagur led Heather to the trading post and pointed out a blond haired man stealing another viking's spyglass. "That's Olaf. Can't keep his sticky mitts off any object that comes near him." The Berserker chief smiled, disturbingly, "Let's go say hi." He and Heather walked over to Olaf, who began backing away, "D-Dagur! I haven't taken stuff from any Berserker, I swear!" The chief stopped going forward, "Hold it, Lafs. I didn't come all this way to go after you. Just was curious if you've ever found something in regards to Oswald the Agreeable." Olaf eyed him, suspiciously, "You're not going to hurt or threaten me?" Dagur shook his head, firmly, "Nope. Only talk. Can you help us?" The viking was hesitant, but more concerned about **not **aiding the Berserker, "Sure-uh-I think, I got something about him a while ago. Let me check."

The viking went through a bag on his shoulder, moving item after item aside. "Did you steal **all** of those things?" Heather inquired, shocked. Olaf frowned at her, "**Foun****d **all these things." He returned to his searching, "It's in here somewhere. Never could tell if the thing was valuable or not. Seemed pretty useless." His eyes lit up, "Here it is!" The viking pulled a book out of his bag and handed it to Dagur, "Saw this on the coast. It had been wrapped up in some special leathers-probably so the water wouldn't mess it up." The chief flipped through a few pages and smiled, "Yep, that's his handwriting, all right. Thanks Olaf." The other viking was, completely, astonished that he had been thanked, "Um, no problem. C-can I go?" Dagur was engrossed in the book and Heather poked him, "What? Oh, yeah, totally." Bowing, slightly, in gratitude, Olaf scurried away from the Berserkers.

Dagur moved the journal, so that Heather could see it as well. "These are like some sorts of riddles." she noticed. "That was kind of Dad's thing. Make things as confusing as possible. That was his motto, it seemed like." her brother told her. Heather stared at the pages, "This doesn't make any sense. 'Four islands of different sizes, I traveled to only one. Suns, equally hot, if not one, barely, moreso.'" Dagur stroked his beard, thoughtfully, "I might have an idea what he's talking about." He peered at the book, harder, looking at some drawings. Beaming he spoke, "I **do** know where this is!" His sister's eyes opened wide, "Really?" He nodded, zealously, "I've gone past it before on our ships. Couldn't tell you what it was called, but there were the four different islands, the sun shone in the water really brightly, and it looked just like that picture."

Taking Heather by the hand, he brought her back to the dragons. They flew North for some time and Heather asked, "Why did he leave?" This took Dagur off guard, "He wanted an adventure. Nothing was going to stop him." The other Berserker looked forward, frowning, "And he never told you **where**?" Dagur's brow furrowed and he bit his lip, "No." he stated, trying to not sound curt. The island came into view before Heather could press for further information and Dagur sighed a breath of relief, "Here we are." They landed on the shore and dismounted their dragons. "What are we looking for, exactly?" Heather questioned. Dagur shrugged, "No clue. I guess, anything that belonged to him. **Finding** Dad would be a great way to start." he joked. The vikings and dragons began to scour the area. An hour went by and nothing was seen, "How are you coming along?" Dagur called over. "Terribly." she answered from a cave, "Haven't found a-"

Upon hearing her stop short, Dagur and Sleuther ran over. Heather and Windshear were standing, motionless, not wanting to provoke the others creatures that were there. Fireworms coated the ground and lit up like lanterns. More worms emerged from a hole in the ground and approached the girl. Slyly grabbing a stick, Dagur flicked a group of them to the side, providing an opening for the rider and dragon to move through. Heather leapt onto Windshear's back and flew upwards. The Sleuther flew over to Dagur and lowered his tail for him to take. The Berserker grasped it and was placed on the Triple Stryke's back. Fireworms scurried up the ceiling of the cave and fell down onto the pair. Dagur swiped them off of the dragon's scales, with the stick, preventing him from being burned. A dozen extra dragons landed on his arm and he shook them of his body, cringing at the contact.

The Berserkers hovered in the air over the island, "Whoo! That was..something." Dagur exclaimed, rubbing his arm, "You okay?" he inquired. Heather nodded, "I'm fine." She looked at her brother and saw the red mark, "Are **you** all right? I see that they got you." He flicked his wrist at the Berserker, "I'm good. Little suckers burn like heck, but that island didn't get us any closer to Dad. We'll have to be more wary following this thing, if we still do at all." Heather clutched the diary, "We **have** to keep using this book. It's all we have to guide us. I'll see what else it says." She flipped through some pages, "I recognize this sketch. It's of a cliff that's been worn into looking like a Gronckle's tail. Windshear and I have flown past there when searching for different ships. Follow me." Heather zoomed in front of Dagur and began leading him to the island.

They reached the land in no time and parked themselves on the shore. Heather looked around some rocks, and grumbled, "Still nothing." Dagur commenced eying over and under anything that he could find. A distress roar caught his attention and he saw that Windshear was sinking into the dirt. "Quicksand!" Dagur alerted Heather. The Razor Whip was going in, fast and Sleuther flew over, wrapping her front paw in his tail and pulling her upwards, gradually. Dagur kept his gaze on the sand, noticing that more of it was quicksand than only where Windshear was. "Look out, Heather." he admonished. His sister rushed over to the water, avoiding the lethal dirt and floating in the sea. Windshear was still being pulled out, herself, and when Sleuther finished, she zipped over to the Berserker. Dagur had gone to the water as well and Sleuther went and scooped him up, "Thanks, Strykie.

The four searchers continued their traveling into dangerous locations, but Heather would not stop hunting. "Let's try over here." She suggested. Dagur was beginning to get fed up with all the deadly situations and frowned, "Heather, it might be time that we stop." She was appalled, "We can't stop. We **have** to find him. This next one is the one. I can feel it." Sighing, Dagur followed her down onto an island. "Look." his sister said, pointing out a cave, "It's really deep. Maybe he's in there." The hopefulness in her tone made Dagur feel terrible about his doubt. They flew into the cavern and let their eyes adjust to the lack of lighting. A quiet sound began and Dagur felt uneasy, "We should get out of here. Start fresh somewhere else." "No." Heather protested, "We haven't finished looking, yet. Just a bit longer." Despite his feeling, he conceded. They could see nothing of value and the sound that he had heard grew louder. Soon, they realized that it was crumbling. The cave was falling down on top of them.


	16. Closure

Dagur flew alongside Fishlegs and Hiccup. The heir looked at him, "Where are we going?" Dagur's hand tightened around Heather's letter that he had gotten from their dad's hut, "Back to Berserker Island. Let's just say that Heather wasn't made, entirely, aware of me having this diary." he chuckled, sheepishly, "When she realized it was gone, she probably flew back to regroup. If I know our guards, she wasn't able to leave without telling them where she was going. That way, we can get this note to her without wasting time." The Berkians nodded and continued to follow the Berserker.

"Ooh! Oswald made a compote out of the island's fruit. This is a good recipe. Maybe we can substitute some apples in and try it." Fishlegs stated, engrossed in the former Berserker chief's cookbook. Hiccup was humoring his friend and kept thinking about the dragon eye lense that had been in Oswald's notes. While the two conversed about lenses and recipes, Dagur was deep in thought. He wondered how he could break the news to Heather, "_What do I say? 'Hey, about our search...you can stop now.'" _the viking sighed, quietly, "_She'll be crushed no matter how I word it. Dad and she would've gotten along so well._ _He'd had loved Windshear too."_ As he pondered over how much his father and sister would have enjoyed each other's company, a new prospect crossed his mind, turning him ashen, "_What if Heather takes it to heart that he died because I didn't find him?"_

Subtly, Dagur shook his head, _"__I can't be selfish. My concern is for **Heather** not myself."_ he thought, firmly. Despite how much he wanted to let go of thinking that, he could not and felt himself panicking, "_What if she hates me again? Even if it's only subconsciously, she'll blame me because it **is** my fault. I can apologize. Beg for forgiveness. Anything."_ His hand, that held the letter, twitched and he tried to grab it with his other, as inconspicuously as he was capable. The other riders took no notice to what he was doing and the chief was grateful for that. He thought that he had shown more than enough weakness to them during their time on Vanaheim.

Often, Dagur would keep his true emotions to himself and try to cover them up with smiles and laughs, but he could not that time. With his father, possibly, being on the other side of the door, all he could do to not implode was blurt out a rant. There were more worries and concerns that had been buried inside of him, so not all of it had been bared. He had been terrified of how his father would react to seeing him after all those years. None of his prior experiences had wrecked his soul so, badly. Seeing Berserker Island, he was forced back into reality and led the Berkians to the stables. He closed Sleuther into a pin for the Triple Stryke to rest and could not shake the miserable feelings of guilt and trepidation.

Heather had been led into a trap and the dragon riders saved her, but lost a dragon eye lens that she had possessed. When the group returned to The Edge, the Berserker second-in-command had tears in her eyes. Dagur saw this and held her hand. His sister looked at him, "I'm so tired of thinking that I'm going to find Dad and coming up with nothing. Will we ever bring him back home?" The chief's eyes were sad, "Heather, we used the book to go to a place called Vanaheim. It's a retirement island for dragons." he took a deep breath, "He had gotten shipwrecked and..didn't make it." Heather looked devastated and her brother's heart broke at the sight of her, "Dad left a letter for you." Dagur placed the scroll in her hand and gave a, comforting, smile.

Heather opened up the letter, "_Dear, Heather. I know that you were too young to remember me, but I have never forgotten you. Everyday out here, I fight Grim Gnashers with you as my incentive. Never doubt yourself. You will have your mother's courage and brain-great qualities. I am confident that Berserker Island will be in good hands as long as you are there. I love you, Babygirl and I always have."_ Tears flowed, freely, from the Berserker's eyes. She and Dagur embraced, finding comfort in one another. There was nothing to say and the only sounds were Heather's quiet sobs.

Quieting down, Heather released the chief and wiped her eyes, "Where is this Vanaheim island?" "I can show you-" His sister's waving hand stopped him, "I need to do this, alone, Dagur." A flash of horror went over his eyes, "_It's happening."_ he thought, alarmed. Heather caught on to his expression, "I'm not mad at you." she assured, letting him calm his tense nerves, "It just is that I've imagined the day so many times. I have to do this by myself, but I'll return soon." Dagur gave an, understanding, nod and grabbed a piece of paper, "I'll make you a map, then. We only have one right now, so we shouldn't try to bring it around too much. Wouldn't want to lose it, accidentally. Also, this is a secret island. We can't tell anybody else about it, or more vikings would invade the dragons' little private land." Heather smiled, "My lips are sealed. I'll bring Astrid with me, just for the company." That stung the chief and Heather went down to find the Berkian.

"Astrid." Heather called. The warrior poked her head up from throwing an ax, "Yep?" The Berserker approached her, "My dad was found. I'm going to see his final resting place." she stated, grimly. Astrid's face was remorseful, "I'm so sorry, Heather." Her friend patted Windshear's head, "I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to go with me." The Berkian walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Of course." The second-in-command gave a grateful smile and mounted the Razor Whip. With a wave to the others, Heather and Astrid started to fly to Vanaheim. Dagur leaned against the outside wall of a hut, thinking, "_I hope that Fishy's right and this gives you the closure that you need, Sis. Either way, I'll be here for you."_


	17. Precautions

The dragon riders and Dagur stood in the main hut, thinking over the message that the Dragon Eye had given them. "How do we find these new lenses?" Astrid asked. No one was sure, but Hiccup spoke, "I don't know, but right now we need to head back to Berk and tell my dad about Johann." The other riders nodded and started to file out of the hut, going to gather their things for the trip. Dagur followed Hiccup into his hut to speak with him, "Hey, was Trader-or Trai**tor**\- Johann a main merchant of yours over there in Berk?" The heir stopped putting his belongings in a bag to sigh, "He's the **only** merchant that we use. We'll have to start fresh. Salvage whatever isn't sabotaged in some way and get rid of the remainders."

Dagur's face was thoughtful, "How will you find out what's po-" "All right, Hiccup. Everyone's ready to go." Astrid said, standing in the doorway. The viking slung the bag over his shoulder and started for the door, "Okay, see you sometime soon, Brother." he called behind him. The Berserker smiled at being called the moniker and exited the home with him, "Good luck with finding some replacements." Hiccup got on Toothless's back, "Thanks." The chief planted himself on Sleuther's saddle and flew off with the riders. About a mile away from the Edge, the vikings split up and went in their separate directions. "We got some stuff that we need to do, Strykie."

The chief and Triple Stryke landed in the Berserker Island stables. After petting Sleuther's head, lovingly, Dagur went over to Shattermaster, "Hey, little buddy." He made his way down to the village and entered his hut. Pacing, slightly, the chief thought of what had occurred. _"Only one merchant. Who does that? We've got, at least, **six** different ones coming in, daily." _The young man grunted and rubbed his face, _"And that plan. Salvaging what's good. Sure, sounds great until you have to figure out how to test for poison."_ A laugh filled his throat at the morbidity and he let it out. After it died down, Dagur stroked his beard, "_We're still working on getting everything back to normal, so we can't provide **too** much; however, I know they'll need some Willow Bark. We have plenty of that and can send some."_

Exiting his hut, Dagur went down to the forest area of the island. He strolled by some Willow trees and caressed their trunks, inspectingly, "You'll do, Willy. Hope you don't mind sharing for some needy vikings." The Berserker took out a blade and began to carve strips of wood off of the tree's trunk. It was relaxing to cut into the bark, he often thought of it as an enemy's flesh. When the viking had deemed that enough was harvested, he put them all in bags and returned to his hut. The chief packaged the bark and kept frowing, thinking about the Dragon Eye and its lenses, "_Johann's been there for years. He probably knows Berk inside and out. If he brings fleets of hunters and flyers, they'll go through every nook and cranny. **B****ut** if the Dragon Eye and lenses aren't on Berk, he won't be able to find them."_

A twinkle lit up Dagur's eyes and he rushed down to his Berserker guards. Seeing their chief, they stood at attention, "Aye, Chief." Captain Vorg saluted, "What can we do for you?" Dagur eyed the vikings, "Move some soldiers over to protect the library. I just want to check something." An ornery smile crossed his face and vanished, "Carry on for now." The Berserker chief walked away, leaving his vikings in a very confused state. Briefly returning to his hut, Dagur found a change of clothes, a cloak, and some paint. He used these items to disguise himself and added the bonus effect of hunching over, slightly. Finding his new look to be adaquate, the viking crept to the docks.

Crawling along the island's coast, Dagur went unnoticed. As he drew closer to the village, hiding was becoming more difficult and the vast amount of Berserkers were, nearly, impossible to sneak past. Still, he climbed up trees and waited for the perfect moment to move. There was an opening, which he took and made his way to the library. Disappointment filled the chief as he was about to enter through a hole in the building. Before he could, he sensed some vikings behind him and grinned. More than twenty Berserkers had their bows raised, "Not another step." Vorg admonished. Dagur laughed, "Got me worried there for a second. I thought that you all had lost your touch." Immediately recognizing their leader, the captain and other soldiers lowered their weapons and had more confusion painted as their expressions.

"What are you doing, Chief?" the viking inquired, completely lost. Dagur removed the cloak and restraightened his back, "I wanted to make sure that you can keep things guarded. I'm going to suggest to the dragon riders that we meet up and talk about the Dragon Eye and lenses being kept here. The hunters don't know this place very well and we'll be able to ensure their safety." The soldiers understood and returned to their posts as the chief went to write the letter. Afterwards, he attached it to a Terrible Terror and awaited his reply.

A response came within a short period of time and Dagur alerted the other Berserkers that he would be leaving. The young man went to the stables and hopped on Sleuther's back, "Ready, Strykie?" The Triple Stryke took to the skies towards Dragon's Edge. After a bit of time flying, they arrived and waved at the Berkians. Dagur frowned at seeing only them, "Heather still hasn't returned?" Worry was evident in his voice. "No, she hasn't. But remember, this is Heather we're talking about. She's fine. Probably just wants to spend as much time as she can there before coming back." Hiccup assured him. The Berserker's furrowed brows deepened, "I **know** it's Heather. I, also, know that she can get herself into a lot of trouble thar she's not always up for fixing." he retorted. Dagur had more than half a mind to go to Vanaheim and make sure that she was all right, but knew that the hunters could attack at any moment and would be unstoppable with the King of Dragons.

With a grunt, he changed subjects, "So, you'll just hand the Dragon Eye over and I take it back with me? If that's the plan, I don't know why you all look like you're about to leave." Ruffnut smiled, "We're about to go meet up with my old flame." Dagur's eyed her, curiously, "What?" Hiccup rubbed the bridge of his nose, "It's a long story, but we're going to Defenders of the Wing Island. We met their queen a while back and think that she might be another option for keeping the lenses and Dragon Eye." Dagur nodded and got back onto Sleuther, "Fine by me, but you'll realize that **we're** the best choice." he beamed, proudly. Hiccup rolled his eyes, "Oh, gods."

The vikings landed on Defenders of the Wing Island and were greeted by the inhabitants. "Thank you for coming, Hiccup Haddock." Mala stated, regally. The Berkian smiled, "No problem at all. Thanks for being willing to help us out with this. Now, Snotlout and I won't be able to stay, but the others will help decide what should happen." he informed the ruler. Mala nodded, understandably, "Very, well. We shall hope to make this be a most productive meeting " She gestured for the riders to follow her towards a table and glanced at Dagur longer than the others, "Excuse me, but have we met before?" she inquired. The chief chuckled, "Informally, but yes. You and this one guy-some guard, I think-were at the Northern Markets-" he stopped, seeing the realization in her eyes. "And were about to get attacked by hunters when you intervened." Mala finished, smiling. Dagur grinned back, "You got it."

"I never had the opportunity to thank you for that, so thank you very much." the queen said, gratefully. Dagur flicked his wrist, "Oh, it was nothing, but I'm glad that we can meet again under better circumstances." He extended his hand, "I'm Dagur." Mala accepted the hand and shook it, "And I am Mala, although, I suppose, you **did** say that, then. Your name sounds familiar." She looked at him, pensively, "I **do** know of you, possibly. Are you of a royal bloodline?" Dagur rubbed his chin, "We don't really call it that, but I'm the chief of Berserker Island, so kind of." he offered. Almost awkwardly, he asked, "Is that all that you know about me?" Mala answered, "Only things related to the ruling side of your life, I believe. I try to stay informed on other leaders." She raised a brow at seeing the, moderate, relief on his face. "_The less people that know of me, the better. It'll be easier to work with her if she doesn't know everything I've done."_ Dagur thought. The group sat down to the table and began speaking on the matter of where everything should go and with whom.


	18. A Budding Romance

The Wing Maidens had just finished putting up the Dragon Eye lenses and the rest of the vikings exited. As there was nothing left to do, the Berkians got back onto their dragons, "Mala, do you need a flight back?" Hiccup asked, recalling just as he was about to fly off. The queen hesitated and shook her head, "While that is appreciated, Hiccup Haddock, I would like to ask that favor of another." she divulged. The Dragon Riders glanced between them, unsure who she might question. The Defender queen turned to face Dagur, "Would it be possible if I rode with **you**?" The Berserker's brows rose, surprised, "Sure. I'd like if you did." A smile started to form on his face and he led her over to Sleuther.

Mala looked at the reptile, "He truly is a magnificent dragon. Is there a name you use for him?" Dagur nodded, "He's Sleuther, but I normally call him Strykie." The queen grinned, "He is very powerful. Smart as well. You can see the intellect even by his eyes." Sleuther beamed at the compliment and Mala leapt, gracefully, onto his back. Dagur mounted the dragon also, smiling as he noticed that he and the viking shared their way of hopping onto saddles. The Berkians eyed them, slightly, shocked, "All right. I guess, we'll be heading back. We'll let you know when we come up with another plan to stop the hunters." Hiccup told the pair. The duo nodded at him and flew off in their own direction.

"How long have you and Sleuther been a team?" Mala inquired, rubbing the Triple Stryke's back. "For a nice few months now. I have a little friend that's a Gronckle. His name's Shattermaster." Dagur grinned, thinking about his pal. The queen tilted her head, "Was he your first dragon?" "Yep." the chief told her, "On a mission to stop the hunters, we saved Strykie, here. Everything was going fine, until a catapult hit us and Shattermaster got pretty injured. He's okay, but he can't fly for too long of time periods. That's why I do expeditions and stuff with this buddy of mine." He turned his head to look at her, "Have you flown on dragons a lot? You have a knack for it." Mala felt as her cheeks heated up, moderately, and that took her off guard, "Um, I have not flown on very many dragons. Only on Snotlout Jorgenson's Monstrous Nightmare." Dagur smirked, "Trust me, it can be a **lot** better than that."

The Berserker chief thought about the volcano on the queen's island, "So, the Great Protector really eats all the lava before it can flow into your village?" he asked, intrigued. "More than that." Mala stated, "Our Great Protector consumes the lava as soon as it forms in the volcano." Dagur watched the seas, "That's cool how dragons just have the instinct like that." he commented. Mala became pensive, "I have been wondering how you knew of myself when I was at the market." Dagur paused, "I'd heard a lot about different vikings during that time. Your description had been given too." The queen raised a brow, "My description? I suppose that I should have been more discreet."

Curiousity hit Mala, "What, exactly, did they say about my 'description'?" Dagur shrugged, "That you're tall, have blonde hair that's cut short." Self-consciously, Mala ran a hand over her hair, before stopping at the Berserker's next sentence, "It's a nice style. Really pre-practical in a sense of not getting yanked around." Dagur changed, clearing his throat, conspicuously. Mala smiled, "Thank you." Before either could say any more, Defenders of the Wing Island came up into view. "Let's land over there, Strykie." Dagur instructed. The trio alighted onto the ground and the Berserker offered his hand to Mala. Both knew that she did not need it, but it was a courtesy that was unexpected and appreciated by the queen. She accepted the gesture and stood by the chief. For a moment, the two stood in the same awkward silence that they had just after their trust exercises.

"Is it a long way back to Berserker Island?" Mala inquired, breaking the quiet. "Nothing seems too long to me, so I'm a bad judge on that, honestly. Anything that isn't a year away seems doable." Dagur laughed and noted that, at no point, did the Defender appear disturbed. Instead, she chuckled also, "Well, we have many huts on the island. If you wanted to stay and rest, you could." Mala offered. An emotion resembling shock was on Dagur's face, "Really?" The queen nodded, "If you wanted to, of course." Dagur smiled, brightly, "I'd love to. Sleuther could use the break and I always bring some extra things when we leave for a new island too." He said, grabbing a bag that was attached to Sleuther's saddle.

Afterwards, Mala led the chief through the village and to a hut. They walked in tranquility, neither really knowing what to say. Reaching the hut, both stood at the door, uncomfortably. "Thank you, Mala." Dagur said, sincerely. "You are quite welcome." she replied. It was late in the night and the chief stayed awake, as was his custom. He did not want to seem like he was snooping around the island, so he remained in the hut, until hearing Mala's voice outside. "Good morning." he greeted the queen and Throk. The guard did not respond and Mala looked surprised, "Were you listening for me?" Dagur bit his lip, "W-well, I was already up, but didn't want to roam over your island, so I figured that I'd wait." He gave a nervous smile and Mala chuckled, "That is a fair reason. I appreciate the consideration. Of course, now that I am here, it would be a matter of getting a tour rather than sneaking about." she offered.

Dagur grinned and went over to her. As he did, he noted that the guard tensed, slightly. Mala saw Throk, out of the side of her eye, and gave a very subtle look of reprimanding, "I do not believe that the two of you have been, properly, introduced." she told, "Dagur the Deranged, this is my personal guard, Throk." Unsure, yet hopeful, Dagur offered his hand. Throk, reluctantly, shook the hand and crossed his arms again, "My Queen, with all due respect, the trainees have been experiencing difficulties with presicion. I was hoping that you would be willing to help me decipher the issue." Mala looked at him and pursed her lips, "Yes, the recruits must learn to have accuracy." Her eyes lit up, "However, that does not mean that you cannot join us, Dagur the Deranged." The queen and guard began to walk towards the training arena with the Berserker at Mala's side.

The trio came up to the Defenders and saw them attempting, in vain, to hit their targets with darts. Mala studied their movements, closely, "Their technique is good. I can see no reason why they are struggling." Throk appeared quite distressed, "If they cannot accomplish this, how are they to protect the island?" On the inside, the guard was having a near breakdown. Dagur looked at the vikings, "Maybe it's the mindset." he mentioned. Throk glanced at him, "Beg your pardon?" "The mindset." Dagur repeated, "They're just seeing the targets as what they are. Wooden objects. They don't move and don't pose any threats, so the trainees might not be trying their bests." The queen was thoughtful, "Interesting. Then, it would be best to replace their darts with safe objects and have half of them be the targets, while the others strive to hit them."

The guard set the plan into motion and, miraculously, it was successful. Throk smiled, broadly, at Dagur, "Thank you, Dagur the Deranged, for your suggestion. Please, allow me to aid in giving a tour." The Berserker welcomed to the idea and the three vikings set off around the island.They went past the volcano, throne platform, and the rest of the land. "Nice layouts." Dagur complimented, as they concluded. He eyed the skies, "It'll be getting dark soon and I doubt that my Berserkers would be too fond of me missing two nights without letting them know." The chief smirked and Mala nodded, "Guards can be even more protective than mothers and fathers, it seems." she stated, with a significant glance at Throk. Briefly, Dagur's eyes clouded over with an unpleasant emotion, nevertheless, he blinked it away.

Dagur replaced the thoughts with a new one, "Kind of a sudden question, but would you two like to come see Berserker Island?" This fascinated the Defenders, "I have always been curious about how other islands were." Mala stated, quietly, "Although, if I am gone, the island will need someone to stay and watch over it." She turned to the guard, "Would you stay this time, Throk?" The viking was disappointed, but more than that, filled with trepidation, "My Queen, it would not be proper for me to do nothing as you leave with a stranger." Mala was confident, "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Throk. What I really need is you **here**." she told, firmly. A frown went over Throk's face, though he stepped back. "I promise that Mala will be returned, safely. You know where I live, if I fail to fulfill that." Dagur smirked. The edges of Throk's mouth threatened to form a smile and he nodded, "All right."

Dagur and Mala moved to Sleuther and got on the dragon's saddle. The Triple Stryke took off and the two vikings soared through the skies. "On a scale of one to ten, how violent would you say you are?" Dagur inquired. Mala looked at him, "I have never been asked that. I do not know. It would depend on the situation; however, I do often find that being rid of enemies is more sensical than sparing them. Why allow someone to return and attack again, more powerful than before?" The Berserker smiled, "Nice to see a kindred spirit. I was curious because you're allies with the riders and they have that whole 'mercy' thing going on. I don't get it, but normally try not to oppose it too much around them. Don't want them to get all sequeamish on me."

A series of random questions arose and Mala found herself enjoying taking part in the conversations, "All right. Here is another one." she started, "What is your favorite weapon?" Dagur feigned hurt, "Ooh! Really going to make me pick just one?" Mala nodded, teasingly, "Yes, only one." The Berserker frowned in thought, "I'd have to say knives, then." The queen looked at him, a bit shocked, "Really? I would have imagined you saying a mace or something." Dagur shrugged, "I like that they can be used for close combat and at a distance. I've always had good aim, plus I have a pretty good talent for concealing blades."

Mala eyed Dagur, curiously, "Are you concealing knives right now?" He nodded and she tapped her chin, "Would the amount be five?" He laughed, "Gotta go higher than that, Mala. Told ya, I can coat myself with those." Mala laughed as well, "Remind me to never say a caustic remark away from you, believing myself to be too far for your retort." Dagur peeked at her, "What about **you**? What's your fave?" The Defender pondered, "I am partial to swords, personally. I enjoy the slick, lethalness of the weapon." Dagur bobbed his head, in agreement, "I figured that you would say that." Mala raised a brow, "Am I so transparent? I suppose that I should have realized you liked knives. With the name 'Dagger' and all." The chief chuckled and sucked his teeth, "If it's spelled differently, does that count as it not being a weapon?" "Not in the slightest." Mala answered, smiling, ornerily.

After a flight of pleasant conversing, the three landed on Berserker Island and dismounted off of Sleuther. "Welcome back, Chief." Vorg greeted. "Vorg, this is Queen Mala. She's a guest of ours for the time being." Dagur informed the viking. Vorg nodded and went to tell some others. The Berserker began to show Mala around, "I rather like your island." she noted. The chief beamed, "We had to fix some things up, but we're back to normal now." his eyes twinkled, "Hey, want to try some traditional Berserker food?" The queen was wary, "Of what would it consist?" Dagur commenced counting off with his fingers, "Yak legs, chicken, burly cakes, and mead, mainly. Of course, there'd be a few sides too. Some kind of veggie."

Mala seemed open to the concept, "Is there a cook to do this?" The chief thought, "Technically, yes, but I only ask them when it's a feast. We didn't prepare for that, so I thought that I could just make some for you. I can show you to your hut and bring it over?" he offered. Eyes widening, Mala spoke, "**You** would cook the meal?" Dagur laughed, "I swear, no one thinks that I can cook. Do I really seem like I'd be that bad?" The queen shook her head, "No, it just is that on my island, the males tend to not partake in artistic pursuits. Even the Dragon Riders seem to be novices on actually preparing meals." The chief rubbed the back of his neck, "Guess, I like to be different. Comes naturally. Are you up for the dinner?" he inquired, with a, moderately, timid air. Mala smiled, "I am, although, it would only be fair that you do not make a full meal, on my account, alone. I would like to assist."

Dagur's brows furrowed and he crossed his arms, "I can't invite you all this way and have you cook too." Mala stood firm, "Neither shall I allow someone to go out of their way for me. Either I help with the dinner, or I decline the offer." she said, sternly. The chief narrowed his eyes and then sighed, "You're not going to give on this, are you?" The queen shook her head. "Fine. My hut's this way." He led her to the huts and opened the door for the Defender to enter. Mala took in the, nicely, furnished home, impressed, "Do you live with someone else?" Dagur nodded, "My sister, Heather. This hut's been here since I was born and I didn't have the heart to move to another one. So instead of that, I kept it up and refurnished it."

"Here's the kitchen." Dagur brought Mala over to the room and started to take out ingredients, "You know," he dragged, "since you don't know the recipes, it'd be easier if I did it alone. Just saying." Mala walked over to the Berserker and stared at him, examinely. Dagur made a face, "And what, exactly, are you doing?" Mala stepped back, "You seem to be capable of speaking. I see no reason indicating that you cannot tell me how to prepare the dishes." For a moment, the chief was quiet, and then he laughed, "Touché. All right, Mala, let's get started."

The meal was completed and the two set the table, sitting down across from each other. Taking a bite, Mala made a small sound of enjoyment, "This is very good." she said. Dagur shone brighter than the sun, "I'm glad that you like it." Mala swallowed a piece of chicken, "So, I have met Heather, but know very little about the rest of your family. As far as mine goes, I am an only child with two parents that wished to bear the weight of leadership no longer. What of the rest of yours?" Dagur, narrowly, avoided choking on his food, but played it off, "There's not much to say." The queen looked at him, "Well, how long have you been chief? Did your parents decide that they wished to hand over the throne as well?" Dagur cut a leg of yak, "Not necessarily. I've been chief for almost five years, now. It's been a challenging reign, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like leading others. Never been much of a follower, myself. Always preferred to do things my own way."

Mala drank some mead, "Yes, while leading does come with its own set of difficulties, it is **far** more pleasureable than, simply, waiting for orders." She had noticed the tension that occurred when she had brought up parents and dropped the subject, entirely. Their conversations turned light and fun, with them concluding on a happy note. Despite being finished with the meal, Mala did not truly want to leave. A part of her wished that the night could last longer and she could just speak and laugh with another viking, "_He is, oddly, charming in his own_ _way_." she thought, "_Very skilled in battle, as I have already seen. Brave, clever, and kind-hearted too."_

Dagur began washing the dishes-as he refused to have her do that, also. Mala stood near him and could not help having her eyes on his arm, "_Very muscular. Far more than Snotlout Jorgenson. He must care about wellness and be quite particular."_ Her gaze traveled up to his face, "_Rather handso_-" Mentally, she slapped herself, "_Come now, since when have you ever had such thoughts about another viking?"_ Dagur noted her silence and gave her a smile, only succeeding in making her blush more. Seeing that, he looked away, "_Did I embarrass her? I wasn't trying to."_ he thought, unhappily. When the cleaning was done, Mala, sadly, rose to leave, "Thank you for inviting me here, Dagur the Deranged. I, greatly, enjoyed myself and would like for us to spend more time together, if possible."

Mala took Dagur's hand in hers to emphasize the point and Dagur felt his cheeks heat up. With a parting smile, she walked away, leaving him to look after her. Dagur ran a hand through his hair, _"Did I get that right? Does she like me? As in- **like** me?"_ A smile graced his face and he felt himself blush deeper. Giggling, he went to get ready for bed. Another sleepless night came and morning brought a reluctant Mala walking up to the chief, "As you stated yesterday, our villages would worry if we were to be gone for long. Would it be too much of a hassel if we returned to my island?" Dagur shook his head, "Of course not. I'll go grab Strykie."

The trio returned to Defenders of the Wing Island, to the relief of Throk. The queen and chief made true on their promise to spend more time together and frequently, either Dagur would fly in on Sleuther or Mala would sail in on one of her ships. Both islands were used a hangout locations and both sets of vikings grew to enjoy the presences of the other leaders. There was a day where Dagur was having a bit of extra difficulty with dealing, calmly, with his vikings. He decided to take out his feelings by exercising. "Why won't you get in shape?" he asked a spot on his stomach, angrily. He did crutches and everything that he could think of, to the point where he could, barely, keep count of how many reps he had done.

He was so entranced by his frustration that he did not notice the knock on his door. Mala stood outside of hit hut, wanting to ask him a question about what snacks Sleuther enjoyed best. Getting no answer, she was about to turn back, until she heard grunting and thumps coming from inside. A worry grew in her being and she knocked the door open and went to check and see if Dagur were all right. She saw that he was fine, only doing workouts and punched his arm. "Hey, Mala. I didn't let you in." he mentioned, doing pull ups. Mala marched over and punched him in his other arm. "What was that for?" he asked, cackling at her frown. "With all the noises, I feared that you were being attacked! Another coup could have been taking place."

Dagur let go of the hanging bar and dropped to the ground, "Well, thanks for coming to check." he said, smiling. Mala shook her head, "Why are you doing all of this?" He started doing pushups, "I have to keep getting better. If you don't improve, you risk the chance of getting worse. Can't have that." He peeked up from the ground, "Mind taking a seat?" Mala sighed, knowing what he meant and planted herself on his back. He continued with the pushups and she frowned, "While it is good to become better, it is not good to obsess over perfection, Dagur. You are quite all right now. It would not be slacking, if you were to not overwork yourself." The Berserker did not halt, "I can't stop, Mala. I have to keep working on getting better. I-I can't risk things being the way they were."

The queen unfolded her arms and caressed Dagur's tense shoulder, "You will be fine." The Berserker stopped, mid-exercise and turned to see her out of the side of his eye, "You don't get it. I've been meaning to tell you, but kept being too ashamed to bring it up." Mala rose from his back and he sat on the ground, sighing, heavily, "I wasn't always an ally of the riders. Or, really, **anyone**. I've done terrible things, Mala, and without even blinking **once** about them. If I don't keep proving to the others and myself that I've changed, maybe that'll mean that I really haven't." Dagur turned his head from her, shamefully and Mala put his chin in her hand, directing his gaze back into her eyes, "I know about all that." she said, quietly.

Dagur's eyes widened, "You know?" She nodded, "As I told you, I make a note to be aware of other leaders." The chief leaned back on his hands, "Why didn't you ever bring it up? Act cautious around me? Not want me to be on your island? **Anything** like that?" Mala looked at him, "Because, anyone who is both willing **and** capable of change, I believe, should be granted the opportunity. No matter what you have done in the past, you have done many good things as well and are doing more everyday. I do not know Dagur the Deranged, the dragon hunting, viking killer; I know Dagur the Deranged, the caring, intelligent, leader. The latter is who you **truly** are and please, do not try to change that, if only for me."

Dagur's eyes were sad and almost disbelieving, "Everyone's always wanted me to change. Behave like the other vikings. Not do all the weird things I seem to do." he chuckled, scornfully, "Be sane. Like I didn't want that too." The viking looked into the queen's eyes, "Why don't you?" Mala sat beside him, "Because I love you." A small smile formed on Dagur's lips and Mala kept going, "I would never ask someone to change themselves. If you want to be **technical**," she smiled, "I rather like the differences you have from the other men I know." Dagur laughed, slightly, "Ever the diplomatic one." he said, bowing his head, dramatically. Mala smirked, "I am not trying to be 'diplomatic'. I have very different methods while doing that." She wrapped her arms around the chief's neck and pulled him into a kiss.

As the embrace ended, Dagur had a smile on his face, "I sure **hope** you don't do that while leading the Defenders. Of course, you'd win a lot of arguments that way." Mala hit him in the stomach and he laughed, "Thanks, Malapoo. I mean that." She knew that he did and gave him a, loving, hug. "I love you too." Dagur told her, holding the viking close. This was the true start of their romantic relationship. Even with all the days that they had spent together, that marked the point where they bacame boyfriend and girlfriend. More time passed and the couple continued their dates. One day, the two leaders were walking on Defenders of the Wing Island, hand in hand.

The sun was rising over heavens and the vikings took in its beauty. "Life is so precious. And yet, so fragile." Dagur commented. Mala's head was rested on his shoulder and she glanced up to look at him. "Anything could happen at any time, so you have to take advantage of the chances you get." he stated. Mala felt as he moved and felt Terrible Terrors in her stomach as he got down on one knee. Dagur took the queen's hands in his, "Queen Mala of the Defenders of the Wing, would you do me the honor of joining me in union? While I cannot promise perfection, I **can **promise love, devotion, companionship, and trust for as long as my spirit might be allowed to be in your presence."

Mala gave him a large hug, "Yes!" she exclaimed, happily. Joyful tears streamed down the Defender's face and she did not even feel the need to compose herself. She did not have to be **regal** for Dagur. Only Mala. As the hug released, Mala took Dagur's hand and started running towards a location. "Where are we going?" he asked. "To the Defenders of the Wing King trial area. The sooner this is accomplished, the better." Dagur grinned and ran along with her. They reached the location and Mala called to Throk, "The Trials will begin again." The Berserker raised a brow, "'Again'? Who did it first?" Mala frowned, slightly, "Snotlout Jorgenson. The prophecy seemed to have gone in his favor, so I thought that he was destined to be king. Needless to say, I was rather relieved when the riders intervened. **I **could not, personally, rival such a tradition, but I could enjoy the effects of meddling."

Throk went over to Dagur, "The first trial is for the Great Protector to fire blasts and for you to walk across them to the other side." he pointed to a lava pit and the land that surrounded it. Dagur nodded and went to the one side. The Eruptodon fired some shots into the lava, providing a higher platform to walk over. Throk went to stand on the sidelines with the others and as soon as the blasts were down, Dagur ran across. He was aware that it should have hurt, but he felt nothing. With his speed and excitement, all he could feel was bliss. Dagur saw Mala's surprised and smiling face. The other Defenders mirrored her expression and then a cheer ensued.

The next trial was going through a water maze filled with poisonous eels. "You may select the weapon of your choice, if you would be comforted by it." Throk offered. Dagur declined, "It would be faster for me to use the blades, but thanks." The Berserker climbed down the ladder and started to draw some knives, expectantly. Admittedly, he was not too fond of the fact that all these eels were at a below the belt level, but the water was clear and he could see all the creatures. Any eel that came close, Dagur cut in half and kept running towards where the exit should have been. As he reached the final ladder, enormous eels emerged from the water, hissing. "All right, big boys, let's see what you got." he taunted. Dagur ran forward, invoking an eel to lunge at him. As he sidestepped it, the animal collided with another eel. A different eel came at Dagur and the chief stabbed it in the eye.

The Berserker climbed up the ladder and Mala's face was full of relief. The Defenders rushed to Dagur's side, "Would you wish to have a feast, like Snotlout Jorgenson did?" they asked, swarming. Dagur shook his head, "Nope. Appreciate it, but I won't celebrate until Mala and I are, officially, ready to be wed." he said, looking at her. Throk nodded and the group moved to the last location. The guard drew a bow and arrow, pointing it at Mala. Instinctively, Dagur stepped in front and knocked it out of his hand, "What's the meaning of this?" he asked, trying to be open to their traditions. Mala walked towards her fiancé, "It is all right, love. The last test is to see if you would be willing to take an arrow for me." "Oh" Dagur awed. Sheepishly, he handed the arrow back to Throk.

"Well," the guard began, laughing, "one cannot say that you would be unwilling to protect our queen." Dagur smirked and readied himself. He locked his eyes on the arrow and Throk's hand. Just as the Defender released and it whizzed through the air, Dagur was over Mala with his back facing the arrow. He grinned as he felt the impact and gave Mala a kiss, "We're ready, Mala!" he laughed, happily. She hugged him back, careful not to push the arrow in deeper. Before the queen could suggest taking it out, Dagur was leading her back to Sleuther. "I look forward to having you as our king, Dagur the Deranged." Throk said, as the two leaders mounted upon the dragon's saddle. Dagur nodded, "I look forward to that too, Throk." He patted Sleuther's head, "Come on, Strykie, let's go tell the others."


	19. Plans and Informings

After seeing Hiccup and Astrid kiss, the leaders of the Berserker tribe and Defenders of the Wing thought of doing the same. Romance was in the air, but that meant preparations had to be made. The engaged pair got on Sleuther's back and flew to Berserker Island. They were greeted by Vorg and Herald, "Aye, Chief. Ma'am." the captain saluted. Dagur's smile was unending, "Alert the others of this, please. The island is going to have a new Berserker chieftess." The vikings gaped their mouths, moderately, at the news. Smiling, they nodded and rushed off to inform the rest of the Berserkers.

Dagur watched the soldiers leave and rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, "An important detail remains. We have to decide on how to govern both islands." Mala nodded, "Ah, yes. Being the only heir to the throne, I cannot leave Caldera Cay, indefinitely, but I do not expect you to abdicate your duties as chief." The Berserker paced, slightly, "How good is Throk at leading?" The queen shrugged, "He is rather adept at the skill. Him being made ruler of the kingdom, though, would be a far cry from tradition." Her fiancé shook his head, "Nothing so permanent. What I'm thinking is, what if we alternate between islands? We, kind of, have been as it is. Throk and Heather could lead while one of us is away, then we'd return and take up charge again." Mala pondered over the concept, "That could work, quite nicely. Do you think that changing every three months would work? Both islands would get half a year with us and it would not be so long a time in between that they could be in danger, though enough that we could get settled." Dagur clapped his hands, "Sounds like a plan to me."

A smirk crossed the chief's face, "Now, I know that you mentioned the 'Dance of Blades' to the twins, but we haven't really gone over it. What kind of dance is it?" Mala looped her arm around his, starting to take him to a grassy bit of land, "Allow me to show you." They reached the location and the couple stood, facing each other. Mala held Dagur's right hand and moved his left to her waist. Next, she moved hers to his shoulder and began teaching him the routine. Dagur grinned, "Hey, this is like a waltz." he noticed. Feeling more comfortable, he commenced leading. The pair waltzed through the grass, doing twirls and everything. When more time had gone by, Dagur dipped Mala, who, gracefully, raised one leg in the air to further accentuate the movement.

Still in the position, Mala felt as her face heated up, "Perhaps, that is enough for now. Would not want to wear ourselves out before the ceremony." The chief's expression was ornery, "It'd be a shame to come this far and stop, prior to finishing." His fiancée smiled as he leaned down his head to kiss her. Pulling both himself and the queen back up, Mala pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, "Yes, well. **That **was worth risking fatigue." The two walked, hand in hand, back down towards the village. "The twins said that you told them no dessert is ever served at a Defender's wedding. How come?" Dagur inquired, tilting his head. The queen smirked, "That is not, entirely, accurate. Immediately following the dinner is our dance-that is the reserved time that I told them. Although, afterwards, some have decided to include a sweet finish."

Mala chuckled, "To be honest, I implied that there was none, solely, for the fact that the twins' meals appeared more heinous than any foe I've encountered thus far." Dagur laughed, "Well, I'm fine with or without dessert. It's your call, Malapoo." The Defender shrugged, nonchalantly, "Where will the wedding take place? If it is on Defenders of the Wing island, maybe a traditional Berserker wedding treat." Nodding, excitedly, the other viking replied, "That'll work. We've got some **really **good ones that you have to try." He brightened even more, "How about I make some for you to taste and then we had back to Caldera Cay?" Mala agreed and they walked towards the homes.

The duo entered Dagur's hut, where he glanced around, inspectingly. "What is wrong, love?" Mala asked him, picking up on his concern. The chief frowned, "Heather's **still** not back. Nothing's been moved around since the last time we were here." He sighed, heavily, "I get why she's taken a nice bit of time, but this is too much. She should've been back by now." The queen rubbed his shoulders, lovingly, "She is, probably, just taking her time." Dagur looked at her, "It's been months! I'm not trying to be an overly protective sibling, however she's not giving me too many options here." Mala put her hands on her hips, "Dagur, if you go and drag Heather back, I, **highly**, doubt she will be pleased with you. Where is she, anyway?"

The Berserker rubbed the back of his neck and sat in a chair, "She's at our father's final resting place. You know the place, actually. Vanaheim." Mala's eyes widened, "Vanaheim? How did he find it?" she wondered, quietly. Turning to her future husband, she spoke, "Then, even more, I believe that she is taking her time. Surely, she wants to stay as long as possible." Dagur sighed again, "Maybe you're right. **Maybe**." He rose from his seat and ventured over to the kitchen, "Okay, let's move on to getting these dishes fixed up." The Berserker chief made five different desserts. Three were cakes and two were puddings. Mala licked her lips, "I adore the lingonberry drizzle." she commended. Dagur beamed, "Thanks. I figured, at least, one of these would be cool to display." The future chieftess nodded, contently, "Quite so." she said, before restarting her digging in.

The couple stayed on Berserker Island for another week and were walking alongside the harbor. "You know, I never ended up introducing you to my parents." Mala mentioned. Dagur peeked at her, "You're right. We should head there, as it is, so let's meet up with them this time." The queen nodded and they went to go gather their belongings for the voyage. In the sky, Dagur kept wondering about something, "Mala," he started, "why did we wait so long for me to meet your folks? They're about to become my in-laws now." The Defender pursed her lips, "I waited longer than most of our royals do to find a significant other. To give my parents some hope, I promised that I would tell them, when I was positive I had found the right one for me. More than ever, I am positive, so now is the time I wish to do this."

"Is there any particular way we should do this meeting? Like have a dinner or some other thing?" Dagur inquired, glancing over his shoulder to look at the queen. "No. They are quite straightforward, so it would be best to, simply, talk with them. I can tell them of our plan and we should be able to come, shortly." Mala told him. When they landed at Caldera Cay, she dismounted Sleuther, "I shall return, soon." The chief nodded his head and began nuzzling the Triple Stryke's head. The Defender walked towards the huts and knocked the door on the largest of them. After a, not very long, wait, the knock was answered and Mala entered the home.

The receiving was a warm one and Mala was hugged, immediately. "Hello, Mother." she greeted, smiling, "Where is Father?" The former queen flicked her wrist, dismissively, "He is off welding axes to swords, in a futile attempt to improve them." Mala chuckled, "I would like to introduce you both to someone. Might you know when would be a good time?" Her mother's eyes twinkled, "Yes, now actually. As I said, your father is doing nothing of importance and I, myself, have just completed sharpening those weapons." she sighed, "I **do **hope he does not ruin them. You fetch your viking and I shall retrieve mine, Mala." The queen nodded and exited the hut, going back over to Dagur. "That **was **soon." he commented. "As will be our visit. They wish to see us now." Mala stated. Nerves found their way inside of the Berserker, nevertheless he could have convinced a psychic of his confidence as he strode along with Mala.

The queen opened the door and the pair entered the hut, seeing an older couple inside. Dagur could, clearly, see the family resemblance. Mala had her father's hair color and height with her mother's eye color and hair grade. As far as features went, she took the best from both. Grabbing the Berserker's hand, Mala spoke, "Mother, father, this is-" "Dagur the Deranged. Your fiancé." the parents finished, simultaneously. When the betrothed pair clammed up, the mother began again, "News travels quickly on this island. Especially when it involves the queen. We have known for months that you two were seeing each other and it saddens me that Throk had to be the one to alert us of our own daughter's engagement."

Mala frowned, slightly, at hearing that her most trusted guard had informed her family without her knowledge. "Do not hold resentment for him, Mala." her father said, knowing the Defender's thoughts, "He was as excited as if it were his own wedding. As soon as it left his mouth, he realized his mistake and turned paler than a ghost." he chuckled, thinking of the encounter. The younger couple stood, awkwardly, in the entranceway, unsure of the level the others might have been upset. The former king folded his arms over his chest, "While we do have a nice doorway, it is bizzare to stand and admire it like so. You have already come here, so sit down and we shall speak." He gestured to some chairs at a table and the four sat, both couples facing the other.

For a few moments, the former king and queen said nothing. Instead, they stared into the depths of Dagur's soul. He felt as though he were on trial again and prayed to Odin that this would have a better outcome. The two leaned back, moderately, "Now, politically speaking, this is a wonderful arrangement." Mala's mother said, "Two powerful kingdoms joined. Whenever an attacker should arise, they would have to ward off both sets of vikings and whenever one might need assistance, the other would be able to provide such. Many weddings have been done to achieve this. Is that **your **reason?" "No." Dagur told her, "Like you said, it's good to know that more help can be available when you need it-there have definitely been times when we have-but that's not why Mala and I are getting married. We both have some nice similarities and even with our differences and faults, I think that we can help each other with those. Over these months, she's become my best friend and I love being around her as much as I love **her**."

The parents eyed Mala, examinely, "What are your thoughts?" her father inquired. She looked, lovingly, into Dagur's eyes, "I have never found someone like him and believe that I never will again. The combination of cleverness, strength, and gentleness-only to name a few traits-are quite alluring to me. There is a sense of comfortability that we have with each other where neither need be anything different than who we are." The mother squinted for a second and then took hold of Dagur's left arm, "What is this?" she asked, suspiciously. He bit his lip and held in a sigh, "Um, that used to be a revenge list. Now, I use it to see the names of dear loved ones." The elder lady pursed her lips and let go, "A drastic change." she commented. "It's the same as my own." the Berserker informed her, "I was a different viking then and not someone I'm proud of."

They nodded, "Did I hear correctly that you were convicted some years ago?" the father questioned. Dagur fought hard to not lower his head in shame, "Yes, Sir, you heard, correctly." The man pressed, "Were you acquitted of the charges or did you live out the sentence?" he asked, stroking his beard. The Berserker shook his head, "Not exactly. I..ended up breaking out." Appearing appalled, the older couple looked at each other and at Mala. The queen knew what was happening, but had to let it take its course. All that the Defender could do was hold her fiancé's hand, sharing her strength with him. "Breaking out a prison." the mother thought, aloud, "One would think that the honorable thing to do would be to serve out the punishment." The chief nodded, "It would have been."

"Of course, honor, like respect, is a double edged sword. I have heard many ex-convicts claim that they were justified in escaping because the guards and prison keepers were cruel." the mother's eyes traced over Dagur's face, "Would you mind if I asked from what your scar derived?" Mala felt as the viking's hand tensed and she gave a comforting squeeze. The Berserker kept his expression the same, "It came from my time there." The former ruler was nonchalant, "Another criminal? I hear they often fight amongst themselves." Dagur's gaze was calm, "Just another person who was not a fan of mine." Mala's father glanced around the room, boredly, "I suppose, whoever it was, was a better fighter." Still with the same face, Dagur thought, _"'Course the fact that I was chained up helped Al a lot._ _Could have cut off half of_ _**his **face, if I had been freed."_

"Well, do you feel like you were justified in leaving?" the mother inquired. "No, Ma'am. I had done enough to warrant the treatment." The father appeared as though he recalled something, "Oswald the Agreeable. Most believe that you killed him to usurp the throne. Did you?" Another inspecting glance came from the two and Dagur stayed firm, "No, I did not, directly. He left and got shipwrecked on Vanaheim. My desicion to take up the mantle overcame the fact that I should have sent out search parties and, subsequently, he died." There was one last thing that the older pair wanted to ask about, "Being rulers, I assume that you both would produce an heir, in the future. What if the child has **your** mind?" the husband interrogated.

Dagur hated the thought of their baby having to go through the same things that he did. Genuinely not comprehending what everyone else found to be, perfectly, normal was challenging. Even moreso was when you, naturally, behaved in a way that others found disconcerting. "While I hope that our child won't, I'd be there every step of the way. Anything that others might not understand, I'd be able to empathize with. Whether the child has my mind, Mala's, or a combination of both, the kid will be fine." With a skeptical stare, the parents eyed each other and the younger vikings. "Then, we have one problem." they told the engaged pair, "Why did you not introduce us sooner?" Mala sighed a breath of relief, that she did not realize she had been holding, "You approve?" The former royals nodded and the matriarch began to laugh, "Yes, with what we were doing, I believe that he can control his temper."

Her husband joined in on the laughter, "Many other vikings would have lied, acted as though they were untouchable, or been so patronizing that we would have thrown them into a volcano. I respect that you exhibited none of that. As Mala does, we also keep an eye on what occurs around our island." Turning slightly serious, he added, "We know of Alvin the Treacherous's ways and while we shall not delve into that, it is honorable of you to not say that you deserved to leave." The mother started, "The willingness and capability to change are wonderful aspects of a person's character. It aids in relationships, marvelously. I trust that you and Mala shall be happy together." Dagur smiled at the two and then at the queen.

"I **do **wonder about how both islands will be led, though." the mother added. "Oh, Dagur and I have decided that every three months, we will alternate between kingdoms. His sister and Throk shall rule in our absences." Mala told. The parents nodded, acceptingly, and the remainder of the visit was quite pleasant. The couple stayed on Defenders of the Wing Island for some time, though Dagur had to return to Berserker Island. "I think, I'll get another hut while I'm there. One for you and I to live in. I love Heather, but I'd rather her not live with us, you know?" Mala chuckled at him, "Yes, I agree. Well, I will see you upon your return." She gave him a kiss goodbye and the future king flew off with Sleuther.

Arriving at the island, Dagur started to put some things together. He would miss seeing those items, but most of the objects were only sad reminders of his father. Besides, he'd be in the hut, regularly, anyway when he visited Heather. Oh, Heather. Where could she be? The Berserker went back up to the stables to train with Sleuther and play with Shattermaster, when a familiar flapping sounded. His heart skipped a beat as he turned to the noise and it almost stopped when he saw his sister's state. She was badly wounded and Dagur ran over, lifting her off of Windshear's back and carrying her to their hut. If he did not know the extent of her injuries, Heather's lack of protesting from being carried told him all that he needed to know.

Back in their hut, the chief started caring to the younger viking's wounds, gingerly. Slowly, she became herself again and began swatting at Dagur's hand, "I can do that." she told him. His worried expression never faltered and he kept bandaging her side, then cleaning the cuts on her face, "Since you want to talk, what, in the name of Thor, happened?" Heather sighed, "I was so distracted going to Vanaheim that I didn't notice the flyers had seen me. They stayed pretty well hidden for a while, but I when I saw them, they attacked." Mentally, Dagur cursed, _"I **knew **something was up. I should've gone to get her."_ Heather tried to stand and Dagur, gently, pushed her back down, "Hey! Windshear needs attention." He nodded, "I know. Which is why I had some Berserkers go and check her out. You were, practically, unconscious, so you didn't hear me."

This satisfied Heather and her frown withered away, "Thank you." she said, quietly. "Don't mention it. This is what big brothers are for." he told her, smiling and applying some ointment to the Berserker's bruises. "You're pretty good at this. More gentle than I thought you'd be." Heather commented. Dagur chuckled, "Can't **always **be so rough, right? That's what the twins do." His sister giggled and her face clouded over, "Did Dad ever do this for you?" The chief balked for a moment, then continued with the first aid. With a sigh, he spoke, "I'd love to tell you 'yes', but this whole thing has been about closure and truth." He was almost completed with fixing her up and finished before telling her more. Once done, he sat across from the viking and exhaled, heavily.

"Dad and I never got along. And I don't mean that as in the 'normal familial dispute' type of thing. His letter meant a lot because, honestly, I never thought he really loved me. Definitely not liked or was proud of. We'd clash over stupid stuff. Something as simple as whether Vorg's table should be cedar or pine wood. **That **could end up in a heated argument with him telling me to get out of his face. I know that my temper has always been really bad, but...I don't know. It just seemed like there were these situations the he expected me to get and I genuinely couldn't. After seeing all those things I wasn't understanding, he kind of started to act like I was an idiot. Made sense, if you think about it. Why else wouldn't someone be able to respond to a circumstance that everyone else found so simple? Though, there **were **times when I wished that he'd explain why I shouldn't do something instead of just saying that I shouldn't."

Dagur shrugged, trying to appear less upset over the memories, "Oh well. Can't change the past. Something that I've, certainly, learned." Heather leaned over to rub his hand, "You're right, but as you also know, the future can be brighter." The chief lit up, "Couldn't be more right about that. I didn't get to tell you, since you were gone, but you remember Queen Mala?" The other Berserker nodded, "Kind of. What about her?" Her brother could, hardly, contain his excitement, "She and I are getting married!" With wide eyes, Heather gaped at him, "What?" she laughed. "We met up to figure out how to help the riders and just clicked. Well, there **were** a few, initial problems, but we're cool. We don't have a date, yet, however it won't be too far from now." The viking blinked a few times, "Okay, so a sister-in-law should be fun. I'm so happy for you." she grinned. They spoke more about the relationship and what would occur after the wedding. In their absence, Dagur would need Heather to be able to protect Berserker Island from what or whoever might come to attack.


	20. Union

Dagur took the offered ring from Shattermaster and slid it onto Mala's finger. She returned the gesture and they looked, lovingly, into each other's eyes. "For as long as my spirit exists, I will love you. Our foes will tremble at our combined power and envy our relation. Whatever can be done to ensure your happiness, I promise, I will try to do." the new king told. "We shall lead a people like none other. One whose, unrelenting, fortitude will reflect that of our, undying, love. Any stresses you carry, allow me to aid in the bearing, so that the burdens may be lighter." the impending chieftess vowed. The couple held hands as the minister gave the last, wonderful phrase. "By the powers invested in me, I proclaim you husband and wife."

The viking did not even suggest kissing before the newly weds commited the act. Dagur held Mala by the small of her back, bringing her close to him and Mala wrapped her arms around his neck. The embrace was an affectionate one and a cheer rose from the crowd. Breaking apart, both had dreamy expressions. It was, almost, difficult to believe everything that had occurred. While villains would always exist, the fliers and Johann had been defeated. It was such a joyous time that the leaders knew it was perfect for their union. They walked hand in hand away from the platform, smiling, widely. Their friends followed them to the stands. "Congratulations." Hiccup told them. He would have been brought into a hug, had Dagur not wanted to stay as close to Mala as possible. "Yes, we're so happy for you two." Heather said, grinning ear to ear.

Going to the dining hall, the group sat down to the feast. While enjoying the food, Snotlout kept gagging at the couple. They could not stop giving eskimos and feeding each other. Happily, Mala put some yak leg near Dagur's mouth and he bit into it, contently. He lifted up a piece of chicken and put it in the queen's mouth. The sound of gagging interrupted them and they eyed the Jorgenson. "That could've been me." Snotlout grumbled. Noticing their glance, he smirked, "Of course, a Defender told me that marriages can be broken when they're only a few hours in." He wiggled his eyebrows at Mala and stopped, seeing Dagur's death glare. "Careful, Snot." the Berserker warned, feeling neither playful enough to add a peculiar ending nor friendly enough to use the actual one. Snotlout's eyes lowered to his food and he scarfed down some baked fish.

When the vikings and Defenders were close to completing their meals, Dagur and Mala rose from the table. The two walked towards a stretch of land that was covered in, lush, dark green grass. Mala's left hand went to her husband's shoulder and her right locked with his. Comparatively, Dagur's left hand went to his wife's waist. "Are you ready, darling?" he asked. "More than ever." she answered. Receiving a significant look from the newly weds, the musicians commenced their playing. In waltz-time, the two danced, gracefully. While others in the Defenders' pasts had made the performance dull, this pair brought a fresh spirit and fire to the artform. The audience watched, in entertainment, as the couple glided over the blades of grass. Mala did a nice twirl and they ended with their bodies close, smiling, happily. When they parted, the chieftess put one leg behind the other, doing a curtsy and the king did a bow as they were cheered for.

A dancing spirit was in the air as the other vikings began to join in on the activity. Hiccup and Astrid, happily, danced through the crowds and Berserkers and Defenders danced with one another. Even with all the jubilation, Dagur felt that something was wrong. "Excuse me a moment, Mala." he said. "What is going on?" she inquired, picking up on his tone. He pursed his lips together, frowning, "I don't know. Maybe something with Heather." The king made his way around the people to search for his sister. He found her off leaning against a wall, her arms crossed in front of her and a hurt expression plastered on her face. Before asking what was the matter, he glanced around, following her steady gaze. On the other end of her eyes was Fishlegs. He and Snotlout were fighting for Ruffnut's affection and the chance to dance with her.

With a sympthatetic look, Dagur embraced the Berserker. "I'm so sorry, Heather. You deserve better and you'll find that person." he told her. The younger viking felt an odd sense of betrayal at having such a dear friend suddenly do something like that. "We had gotten so close." she divulged, "After you saved me from the hunters, Fishlegs and I communicated through letters. I thought the he and I could really have been nice together. We even were about to start dating." Heather ran a hand through her hair, "I feel like I'm being cheated on. Like someone that I trusted so much has turned against me." Dagur wanted to run the Ingerman through, however, he resisted the urge. As much as the chief would have liked to say encouraging words to his sibling, he could think of nothing. He had only ever been in love with Mala, so he had never experienced **that** feeling of betrayal. A light sparked in his eyes, _"Betrayal."_ he thought, _"I **do **understand **that **feeling."_

"It's hard to put trust in somebody and feel like you shouldn't have. Maybe the trick is to realize who warrants trust and who doesn't. Those lines are too close for my liking, but when you find someone who will try their best to earn and **keep **your trust, it's worth it all." Dagur said. Heather looked at him, "I apologize for asking this, but how can you be so confident in your relationship with Mala? I mean, you're getting married. That's such a big step and you two have only spent a little bit of time together. How do you know that one day, Mala won't just decide that she wants to be with someone else?" The chief gave a, comforting, smile, "She and I will, accidentally, hurt each other. We'll make mistakes, but I know that I would never do that to her and I'm certain that she wouldn't do that to me. Even though we haven't known each other that long, she and I really connected." Heather appeared alarmed, "But, I thought that Fishlegs and I had connected too. You can see how much that helped."

The king was still calm, "For all we know, you two might have connected, so that you could have a friend during that time. Don't discount it, even if now isn't very good." Taking a deep breath, Heather pulled her eyes away from Fishlegs and Ruffnut, turning to her brother, "Maybe, you're right. You really think that I'll ever have what you and Mala do?" "Undoubtedly." Her brother replied. He cleared his throat and nudged her, gently, "Hey, not suggesting a rebound **at all**, but I think you're not the only one here who's upset about that." He gestured with his head towards their right. Heather peeked and saw Throk, looking as hurt as she was with Ruffnut being drooled over. The Berserker almost had to laugh, "He liked Ruff?" Dagur stiffled a chuckle at her surprise and nodded. Pushing off of the wall, Heather stood upright, "Well, no point in he and I looking like grumps during this great day." She gave another hug to Dagur, whispering "thank you", and walked over to the Defender.

Heather went by the guard , "Hey, Throk. Would you like to dance?" The Defender brightened, slightly, "I would be delighted." He and the Berserker started to do a waltz of their own as Dagur returned to Mala. The duo smiled at their second-in-commands as they commenced dancing again. After a while, a platter was brought out to the dining hall and people gathered around. A complain rose from the crowd and the couple, immediately, recognized it as the twins'. "Oh, so **now **there's dessert, but when we make flambées, it's a no." Tuffnut lamented. As the Berkians bit into a baked apple, their frowns faded. "This is delicious! Forgot how much I love Berserker food." Tuff commented, recalling his short time undercover. The new king rolled his eyes and he and the queen partook in some pudding, in the same romantic manner that they had before.

The rest of the celebration was marvelous. Songs, dances, more food, and just an overall good time were had. Into the late night-or early moring-went the party. Still, the vikings did not want to leave. When they realized that it was time to return to their own islands, the riders approached the couple. "We have to head back to Berk." Hiccup told them, "Congratulations again. This was a great celebration." he grinned. Dagur, this time, did engulf him in a hug, "Make sure that you return the favor when you and Astrid finally seal that knot." The Berkian chuckled, "All right." The rest of the riders said goodbye and they took off for the island. The only ones left were the Berserkers and Heather walked up to the royal pair, "I'm looking forward to seeing you in three months. Don't worry, I'll take care of the others in the meantime."

Dagur smiled and embraced her, "I have no doubt." The viking smiled, "See you soon. Can't go too long without my brother and sister." Heather mounted Windshear's back and waved, flying East towards her home. Dagur and Mala smiled at each other and headed to their huts. It had been a glorious day and made them even more excited for their bright future. Whether they were on Defenders of the Wing Island or Berserker Island, they would be together and that was enough in and of itself.


End file.
